House of Cards
by JaneDoe39
Summary: "Not inside the house," she told him by way of answer. "Then why'd you buy them?" he pulled the cigarette away, throwing it haphazardly onto the table. "Because I thought you were dead. But now you're not, so rules still apply." He said something that sounded suspiciously like, "Damn man can't smoke in his own damn house," but died away under the press of her lips against his.
1. 1,460 Days Ago: Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the original characters, names, settings, plots, or any part of the Naruto manga and anime-they were created by Masashi Kishimoto. This is simply a creative exercise.

**Author's Note**: This fic is written with the mindset of the initial stages of Shippuden (around the time when Naruto and Sakura head out to rescue Gaara) so there will be major differences from the current Naruto Universe & plenty of liberties:

**These liberties Include:**

1)Danzo did not take control of Konoha after the invasion.

2)Sasuke returned to Konoha after his brother's death.

3)Changes in the government and infrastructure of some of the Shinobi nations.

4)Other alterations which you'll have to read about to find out;P

So, basically, when you read, think about what the characters are saying has happened rather than what you know has happened in the Naruto world. That being said, enjoy!

* * *

**House of Cards**

* * *

**Day -1,460: Prologue **

_The clouds overhead were blotting out the sun when Kakashi stood at the podium, smoothing out the creases of his speech with slow hands. He lowered his head to read, but the words in front of him swam, refusing to come together. Frustration wrinkled the skin over his brow. He placed his palm flat over the sloppy, hastily penned eulogy. With the measured curl of his fingers, he crumbled the cocktail napkin within his grip. Such words wouldn't do him justice anyhow. It took him some time to finally look at the crowd gathered, men and women, dressed in mourning. His gaze swept to the mop of pink hair in the front. Her eyes were dry, but her shoulders were shaking and her chest was heaving. Kakashi swallowed dryly, fingers biting into the podium, knuckles white. He cleared his throat and began, speaking from a place that was raw with new pain._

* * *

"_Sakura, I'm so sorry." _

_Ino's words fell on deaf ears. Sakura didn't move an inch from where she sat. It continued that way for the rest of the afternoon; a procession of mourners and one broken girl who'd sell her soul to bring him back. At one point, Sakura imagined throwing a kunai at the next hypocrite who came her way. Kakashi must have felt her anger; he dragged her away before another civilian could offer condolences. She held her breath when they passed the casket and only started breathing again when they were outside the throng. _

"_Sakura."_

_She didn't look at him, focusing instead on the cemetery ahead. _

_Kakashi grabbed her hand and tried again, "Sakura." _

"_What." she finally said, making it sound more like a statement than a question. She knew, after all, what they were going to talk about. _

_When the silver-haired man met her eyes he found they were loaded with everything he felt and things he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a very long time. They looked like the eyes of a widower and he couldn't hold her gaze for more than a second. He felt like a coward when he turned away. _

"_I'm not going to say I'm sorry."_

"_Good, because I'd probably stab you if you did." She watched a hesitant smile tease the corner of his lips, aware that it was the first time she'd seen his face. Figures that the only time she'd see his face was the only time she didn't care. _

"_I know how empty their words feel. But, I also know that it gets better." He heard her anger before he saw her snarl._

"_How the hell do you expect me to believe that! It will _NEVER EVER _be the same again!" Her words were whispered, but every bit as bitter and sharp as shattered glass._

_Kakashi ran his thumb over the back of her hand while he answered in a soft voice, "No, its never the same. But that's not what I said, was it? I said it will get better, that emptiness in your heart will lesson, until it's less a black hole and more of a scar. The pain grows bearable and one day the memories won't crumble you." _

_Her head turned side to side, hair swaying with her, "This isn't what we should be talking about. I'm not ready to talk about this!" _

_The green of her eyes was spinning in a shadowy whirl of anger. He waited for her to continue, aware that she had more to say._

"_Plus, You're lying. If it got so easy, you'd talk about them, about your father, about the Third, about Rin and Obito." she pushed on despite the old pain in his eyes. It only proved her point, and anyhow, she wanted to hurt something, even if it was one of the few somethings she had left. "If it got so easy, you wouldn't visit that damn memorial every morning. That fucking memorial that now I'm going to visit too."_

_With the same patience he'd always shown, he spoke again. "It's not easy. It's never easy. But you move on. it's the only thing you can do for them." _

"_I should have done a lot more for him."_

_Kakashi looked towards the memorial, its body hidden by the heavy boughs of grandfather trees. "You always think you could have done more."_

_The wind picked up and for a second the waving of an orange scarf in her peripheral made her think he was there, running towards her to tell her it wasn't true. She almost started crying. Kakashi followed her gaze and drew her towards him. _

"_It's not fair," she muttered, hiding her tears behind a dam she knew would break as soon as she got home, when she saw his shoes by the door, his jacket on the couch, that ridiculous mug he hauled around the house. All the pieces of his life, of _him, _left behind as cruel reminders of his absence. _

_He settled his chin against her head, "I know."_

"_I'll never forget him."_

"_Naruto wasn't someone you can forget."_

_She sobbed into his shirt, a dry, racking sound that twisted his heart. "Its not fair." _

"_No," he said softly, "it's not."_


	2. Day 001: The Return

**Author's Note: **Here's the _**real**_ chapter 1; So sorry about the mix-up!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Day 1: The Return**

"This fog is driving me crazy."

The brown-haired man spared him a glance. "Its annoying." He conceded, switching the toothpick in his mouth from left to right.

"I mean, it's just not common in Konoha, and it makes it so hard to see. Its freaking freezing too." he added, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to prove his point. "I don't get how I'm always stuck with guard duty on the shitiest days. I mean,"

"You always have guard duty." his partner interrupted, the slightest hint of a snarl creeping into his face. It was too damn early for Jin's whining.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. It's just soooo dull. And come on, you can't tell me you like having to stand out here in this cold with this freaking fog rolling around like…"

Hiro watched the early morning sun strain through the clouds, trying his very hardest to ignore Jin's ranting.

"And why do we even have to do guard duty? We're good shinobi, we're strong! We could be out there!"

"We're here because you botched that mission." Hiro reminded him, biting back a few choice words.

Jin, like always wouldn't take the hint. "But how long are we gonna be here?"

"Until HQ says so."

"But, come on! This just isn't,"

"Shh." Hiro held up his hand, eyes focusing ahead of him.

"What?" The shinobi stretched his neck, trying to peer through the fog. "What is it?"

"Shut up, Jin." The toothpick fell to the floor, unnoticed as he reached for a kunai from his pack.

Ahead of them, the figure of a man was cutting through the haze, striding casually towards the gates of Konoha. From his gait, the brown-haired man knew he was a shinobi. It was when he saw the Uchiha fan stitched into the breast of a traveling cloak that he knew.

"Bloody hell," he murmured. Instantly his hand flew to the communicator at his ear. "Main Gate to Station One, over."

The crackle of static brought back an answer. "This is Main Gate guard, Naga Hiro requesting back up. Uchiha Sasuke is at our front door."

As soon as the name left his lips, a four-man cell of masked shinobi flew from the trees. They strung around the newcomer and pulled his arms behind him, chakra restraints already at his wrists. A soprano voice addressed him, "You're under arrest for defection and betrayal to the Village of Hidden Leaf."

Uchiha Sasuke didn't even flinch. In his signature lazy drawl he interrupted the woman with the neko mask, "I request an audience with the Hokage."

"Yeah, and you'll get one when she sentences you." they jostled him towards the gate, until he sunk the heel of his foot into the ground.

"I invoke my right as clan elder."

The woman turned to face him. Her eyes were hard beneath the mask. "You, little boy, are a missing nin. Whatever privileges you held as an Uchiha have been revoked. And In any case," she added as an afterthought, hoping to smite him, "you're brother would hold that title."

He lifted his head for the first time and the blue-black bangs fell from his eyes. "My brother is dead."

* * *

Tsunade was reaching for a half-empty cup of sake with one hand and massaging her temples with the other when the door to her office opened. Her secretary walked in, holding a manila file.

"You know its only midmorning," Shizune added, placing the file on a precarious pile of documents and shooting a pointed look at the sake.

"Were you here to tell me something or scold me?" Tsunade said through a rather large, unladylike slurp.

"There's an ANBU outside, Captain Hirosaki. She's here to report."

She didn't look up from her cup, "About?"

"Uchiha Sasuke." The name made her snap to attention. Shizune was impressed by the clarity in her eyes. "He was detained this morning at the front gate."

The Hokage seemed to process the information. "Where is he now?"

"At the detention center, awaiting interrogation." Shizune paused at the wooden doors, "Should I tell Hirosaki to pass?"

The Hokage refocused on Shizune and she waved her hand, "Yes, send her in."

When the double doors snapped shut, Tsunade fell back against her chair.

_Back in Konoha. Kami_, she thought. Her hands reached for the bottle of sake. "This is going to be one hell of a day."

The sound of sandaled feet made her focus on the figure at the door. "Captain Hirosaki of squad Delta, reporting."

She looked towards the glint of eyes behind the cat mask and tried to tie the sharp voice to a face. It struck her that this was the wife of Hirosaki Akira, recently deceased. She'd been at the funeral.

"What do you have to say," she finally added when Hirosaki cleared her throat.

"He was spotted by two guards at the gate. He put up very little resistance and only insisted on seeing you."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow at this. "He says Uchiha Itachi is dead."

Tsunade set the cup down slowly and stood, her height and posture every bit as proud as her station demanded. "Take me to him."

* * *

"So, what do you have to say?"

Sasuke looked up as the blond entered. "About what?"

Tsunade pulled out a seat from the table; the one furthest from the missing nin. "For starters, why you're here. Not that I'm trying to sound inhospitable." A hard smile blossomed across her face.

Sasuke reclined in his chair, playing the part of nonchalant bastard and trying hard to ignore the chill of the room. "I've achieved my objective. I want to make amends."

She almost laughed at his choice of words. "Amends. Just like that?"

His bored shrug was more than she could handle. Leaning towards him she let her voice drip with more venom than was necessary, "listen well, Uchiha, if you were under the impression that you've done nothing wrong then let me clear things up for you. You defected this village ten years ago, joined Otogakure,-which, need I remind you, is an enemy of Konoha-attacked and nearly killed several Konoha nins, killed countless others, conceded to human experimentation, learned and practiced forbidden jutsus, created your own team out of rogue nins, have, for the past decade, been on a murderous vendetta, and, most importantly, went AWOL a second time. Your crimes are serious and numerous and they will not be taken lightly by me or the council. People have been executed for much less."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, or at the very least sigh. With an imperceptible shift of his feet, he tipped the chair back. "I believe the point of our previous agreement was that my crimes be pardoned. I did, after all, cut two of Konoha's loose ends."

Tsunade wanted to tell him he was a loose end himself, just like his brother, but his reaction to the comparison would've ended the conversation prematurely. She didn't want to see a temper tantrum and he certainly didn't need another slash against his record.

"I never initiated any attack against Konoha nins," he continued, "and never killed one. Naruto came close, but the dobe survived." Tsunade jolted at the name, earning her a curious glance from Sasuke. The words were on the tip of her tongue when he spoke again, eyes still carefully observing, "I have killed others, but there isn't a shinobi out there who hasn't. My team's only target was Itachi and I made sure they stuck to it. I did not meddle in or enforce Kabuto's experiments. Nor did I fail my end of the bargain. Besides, I doubt that, even with what I have done, the council would kill their last link to the sharingan and the Uchiha clan, especially after I cooperated."

She drummed her fingers on the table, irritated by his arrogance, and though he was right, she couldn't resist disputing. "You're cooperation was questionable at best and we have other shinobi with the your skills."

"The Byakagan isn't the sharingan, and while Kakashi may have that miracle eye, he can't pass it on." He answered coolly, that same smirk curling his lips.

"You could face hard time. Decades in prison, you've done enough to get yourself a life sentence."

He still seemed unaffected. "No Uchiha has ever been locked away. I'm more valuable to this village outside of jail."

"Complacency brings the best man a bitter end," she repeated the same words the Third had said to her team long ago. "Your clan and blood trait don't make you indispensable."

With a scoff he leaned his elbows on the table. "You're lying."

"Am I?"

His response came without hesitance and with all the confidence of an Uchiha. "Yes. We both know the influence my clan holds, even now; the assets we own and the investments we've made-assets and investments which are very beneficial to the council and Konoha, assets and investments which will be donated to some very lucky organization in the case of my death. And even without the money, the sharignan alone guarantees me clemency. It and the Byakagan are the best weapons in Konoha's arsenal, not to mention their source of pride."

Tsunade stepped out of her chair and walked to the door. "Konoha's pride, and its best defense, are our shinobi. Don't get so cocky, that's the reason your clan's dead." She slammed the door shut just before a chair shattered against it.


	3. Day 062: The Verdict

**Chapter 2**

**Day 62: The Verdict**

"Why do you want to come back?" Morino Ibiki asked from across the cell.

Sasuke glared at him. This was the fifth time he'd had to talk with scarface and it was getting, for lack of a better word, annoying. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"There's no one to torture at the moment. It's been a slow week. Although, if you keep holding back answers that might change. It'd make my day." His smile was unsettling, even to Sasuke, not that he'd ever show it.

With a sneer, Uchiha told him to find someone else to bother.

Ibiki grinned, "Why would I go through the trouble when I've got you right here?" His face grew serious again, "Now, just answer the damn question boy, it's not a hard one."

"This is where my clan lived."

"You want to come back because the family roots are here? Bullshit."

Sasuke leaned against the cold wall of his cell. Ibiki had taken to interrogating him here after the chair incident. He called it, "privilege loss." Sasuke could see why; any change of scenery was appreciated. Shifting his gaze back to Ibiki he answered simply, "Yes."

"Come on Uchiha, don't make me draw it out from you."

"As if you could."

Ibiki didn't like his answer one bit, "don't act so tough bastard. I've seen grown men--strong men--cry like children. You don't know what that is and you best hope you don't find out."

His gaze fell on the scars that ran across Ibiki's face like the lines of a map. "I left Konoha to avenge my family. I went to Orochimaru because I needed power to avenge them."

Ibiki interrupted him, a hard look in his eyes, "couldn't you have found that power here?"

"Not quickly enough."

The interrogator shook his head. "Your friends found that power here."

"No they didn't. None of them could face me and walk away. Naruto's the only one who could give me a challenge, but he left Konoha to train with the toad sannin, which only proves my point." Sasuke finished calmly, as if he'd given thought to the matter before.

"Naruto found power without corrupting his values or betraying his home. You could have done the same."

Sasuke quelled the urge to snarl, "Nobody inside this village could have taught me what Orochimaru did. And who else existed outside of it? _Don't_ say Jiraiya."

The man outside the cell knew he was hitting a sore spot. Perhaps Uchiha had already realized his horizons might have been wider than he'd first thought. With a swipe of his hand, Ibiki let the subject drop. "What's done is done. Back to the real topic. You're only interest in leaving was your brother?"

"Itachi's death was my only objective. With him six feet under, I had no reason to stay away from Konoha. My intentions are honest."

"You still haven't answered my question. Do I need to bring in the truth serum, again?"

This time he really did snarl.

Ibiki didn't seem affected by it. His hand grazed across the black stubble on his chin, "you still sore about that, eh? Well, it was fun to see the mighty Uchiha Sasuke sputtering like a tipsy idiot. Now, again, why'd you come back."

Sasuke was ten seconds away from pulling out his hair and using it to strangle the other man.

"Come on, Uchiha, give me a reason to believe you." Ibiki prodded.

Finally, after deciding that it might get him to go away, Sasuke conceded. "This was my home."

"What?"

"This was my home." he said again, clearer, but still quiet.

"What?"

He received a glare for his baiting.

"You know damn well what I said." The upturned corners of Ibiki's mouth told him he'd heard well enough.

"Would you betray Konoha again?"

"Not without reason." Ibiki thought that was a less than satisfactory answer. "And what exactly constitutes a reason to you Uchiha?"

"Nothing short of murder."

"You can't go on a killing spree every time someone hurts you."

Sasuke's face shifted towards the sealing jutsu on the floor, the symbols written in blood red. It brought unwelcome memories of stained floors and splattered walls. "Its not every day a man slaughters your family. I'm sure you can understand why it would make you irrational."

"And what about the promise of power? Immeasurable power?"

His eyes shifted back to Ibiki, and they were clear when he answered, "Itachi killed my family for power, to test his capacities. I've had enough of power to last ten lifetimes. I don't need or want any more."

Ibiki stared at him for an uncomfortable period of time, gauging, accessing. When he spoke, his tone had lost most of its hostility, though none of its gruffness. "You know what, I might just be stupid enough to believe you."

* * *

The council was eerily quiet. It had been a long time since any Uchiha had last been seen by the elders of Konoha, longer still since they'd set foot within the councilroom.

Tsunade watched as Sasuke was brought forward by two ANBU guards, hands shackled, chakra sealed, legs retrained at the ankle, and still looking like a king despite it all. _One day that pride's going to bite him in the ass_.

"The council has arrived at a decision," she announced.

His smirk told her he was about to say something stupid.

She was right. "It only took you two months." he said in that soft I-could-care-less voice.

"You'd do well to hold your tongue, you little prick," she all but growled at him. "Now, do you want to hear what the hell's going to happen to your proud ass or should I send you back to your cell?"

His silence told her to go on. "Congratulations. You've escaped execution,"

"That was never a real threat," he drawled out.

Her sharp stare cut him off, "And, thanks to that half-assed cooperation of yours, prison, for the time being at least. You're on probation, two years. No missions, no leaving the village, and no going anywhere without two ANBU babysitters. You'll continue your sessions with Dr. Yoshida until he says otherwise. You're chakra will remain sealed for a year, after which a third of it will be released. At the end of your sentence the seal will be completely removed. Furthermore, you'll live with you're babysitters for the first half of your probation. After that you'll have guards posted outside as opposed to inside. You'll spend your time doing community service and training for the chuunin and jounin exams. According to Konoha's records you're still a genin." She couldn't smother the smugness in her voice and it tainted the air with triumph. She expected some retribution but he stayed silent, only the tightness in his jaw telling her he was pissed.

"On you way out, Shizune will hand you the documents with all the terms and conditions of your pardon, as well as the sum of your fine."

"Is that all?" he muttered.

Tsunade leafed through the papers in front of her. "That's the gist of it. Changes may be made should your behavior merit them. A word of warning Uchiha." The gold in her eyes flashed when she raised them to his, "Violate this pardon, do anything against Konoha, its shinobi, allies, citizens, or guests, and I promise you you'll find yourself in the deepest, darkest cell we have waiting on your execution. We're known as being softhearted for our second chances, but there's never been a time we've given a third. Don't test my generosity."

His answer came from over his shoulder as ANBU escorted him through the double doors, "I wouldn't dream of it."


	4. Day 189: The Revelation

**Chapter 3**

**Day 189: The Revelation**

Sasuke scratched the seal at his neck, trying to make the itch and the burning go away. It was a nuisance he hadn't expected to deal with. He felt like some weak, good-for-nothing civilian. He hated it more than he let on. Although Yoshida had figured it out right away.

The middle-aged man pushed his heavy glasses up the bridge of his nose, reminding Sasuke of Kabuto. He repressed a shiver and pawed at the seal instead.

"I've heard those are very uncomfortable." Yoshida pointed with his pen at his neck.

If he didn't need him for his freedom, Sasuke would have shoved that stupid pen down his throat. Show him uncomfortable.

"Well, its been a good session, you've talked more than usual. Sixty-three words, I think it's a record." the doctor smiled and set aside his notepad. "Now, this is off the record. What do you want to talk about?"

Sasuke shot him a cursory glance before looking out the window at the view of Konoha--and his ANBU guard sitting on a ledge. The winding strips of buildings looked picturesque against the Hokage Monument. This must have been prime real-estate. "Nothing."

Yoshida wet his lips and combed a hand through the gray of his hair, "Well, there has to be something. Has anybody told you what's happened since you left?"

Still not looking at him, Sasuke scoffed, "I've been in jail for two months, you, Ibiki, and Tsunade have been my only source of conversation, conversations that revolved around me, my sentence, and my mental health. I haven't really heard much about Konoha."

"Okay, how about we start with ranks." Yoshida didn't wait for Sasuke to acknowledge him, "I have quite a few shinobi patients and my son is a ninja himself. He keeps me updated with the happenings in your world."

"Who's your son?"

Yoshida shook his head, "I don't think you know him, he's from a later class, just made chuunin."

Sasuke caught the pride in his voice and thought of his own father. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard that sort of admiration from him.

"Sakura-sama was your teammate, correct?"

Sasuke almost asked him why in the world he was calling Sakura 'sama'.

"She's a jounin now, ANBU member."

His eyes snapped onto Yoshida and he had to keep his head from doing the same. "Haruno Sakura? ANBU?" The two just didn't fit together. "She works in the office?"

Yoshida answered with a small smile, "She's a medic-nin for them, high ranking and very capable. Might make captain next year. My son's infatuated with her."

He turned to face the doctor. "Impossible." The weak, clingy Sakura he knew, an ANBU runner-up for captain? Were they letting anyone join these days?

"Well, I suppose the girl you left behind would have never been ANBU material, but his death affected her very much."

Sasuke wrinkled his brow, "Who's death?" The way Yoshida paled didn't settle well with his stomach. "Who's death," he repeated, genuinely interested--for once.

The doctor cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. With one last hesitant lick of his lips he said, "Don't you know already?"

An unwanted warning was singing through Sasuke's blood. "Obviously not."

"I'm so sorry, but your friend, Uzumaki-san passed away some time ago."

He didn't know how to react. In part, he didn't. Naruto had been a boy he'd known when he was 13, and any brotherhood they'd formed had lessened through the years. But he'd been his friend once, and loyalty called to him. "This better not be a joke," he finally managed.

"I wasn't aware you didn't know." Yoshida offered quietly.

"That idiot would have never gotten himself killed. You must have him mistaken for someone else."

It was the only explanation that made sense to him. The dobe was as likely to die as he was apt to beg.

Yoshida, looked at him cautiously. "Uzumaki Naruto, orphan, Hatake-san's student, member of Team Seven."

Each fact rang true. He knew he shouldn't care, he'd tried to kill the Dobe himself. But, thinking of him dead was unfathomable. It made sense now why there hadn't been a head of blond hair harassing him every minute of every day he'd been in jail.

Sasuke stood slowly from his chair, numb, angry that he felt something and angrier that he couldn't feel anything more. Honestly, he was more upset about Tsunade keeping him in the dark. "Do you have that file ready for the Hokage?"

"You don't have to take it," Yoshida began,

Sasuke shrugged the words off, "that's fine."

Rummaging through a drawer, Yoshida pulled out the folder and passed it to the outstretched hand across his desk.

With the straightening of his shirt, Sasuke walked out of the office, file clutched in one hand. Yoshida stayed silent as he left.

* * *

It only took him ten minutes to get to the Hokage tower. Even without chakra his feet carried him fast enough. The ANBU guards trailed closely behind, feeling the dangerous blackness of his aura. He pushed at it, tried to settle it, only to have it rage brighter under his attempts. He scowled when he couldn't figure out why the remaining wisps of energy were churning; they pulsed all the stronger for his confusion.

Shizune was trying to wrangle the Hokage's pet pig away from her workspace as he came in. Her arms, loaded with a squirming blob of pink, couldn't stop the blur of a very unsettled Uchiha from jarring open the door to Tsunade's office.

The woman, sitting comfortably behind her desk looked up at him through narrowed eyes, sparing an apologetic Shizune a swift glare. Hearing her pig drop to the floor in an undignified squeal, Tsunade focused on Uchiha, pocketing her glasses with the speed and skill of someone used to hiding them. "To what do I owe this interruption?"

Sasuke moved to her desk and she watched him warily. Setting the file down, he took a step back, and in his usual tone pointed it out, "dropped by to bring you Yoshida's file."

Tsunade took in his stance, it was casual, back bent and arms resting within his pockets, but there was tension in his frame; the faint wisps of chakra not subdued by the seal were swirling in chaos. "And you delivered it personally," skepticism bled into her voice, "is this supposed to be a show of good faith?"

He scoffed, "hardly." Pausing for a moment, Sasuke looked behind her towards the window, then let his gaze shift to the floor, "Why didn't you tell me."

"Tell you what?" Her words were flat, mind focused on the work in front of her.

"That Naruto's dead." The words fell tonelessly from his mouth and Tsunade's head rose slowly to meet his gaze. "When I first spoke to you I mentioned him, I said 'he survived." You didn't think it appropriate to correct me?"

"You never asked about them." She shot back coolly.

"What else should I know. Is Kakashi dead too, or maybe he's a missing nin."

Tsunade was just about to reply when the sight of pink caught her eye. _This was __**just**__ perfect_.

Uchiha turned around and found a thin woman standing behind him. Her uniform was torn with blood and grime, her ANBU mask streaked with travel dust and splintered down the side, pieces missing. It hid her face and green eyes well, despite the damage. But he knew well enough by the disheveled, pink braid of hair who it was. She seemed frozen by his presence. Ten years didn't do anything to lessen the shock. The scroll in her hand crackled beneath her grip. Afraid of crumbling her report, she stepped around him to place it on Tsunade's desk, with a bow she moved back. "The mission was successful. There were no casualties or serious injuries. Collateral damage was minimal."

He was surprised by the levelness of her voice, the strength of it.

Tsunade looked between her, him, and her paperwork, finally settling her gaze on the scroll and reaching to unwrap it. "Sakura, take off the mask. You know it unsettles me."

"Of course, shishou." With the release of a few clasps it fell away from her face, leaving behind the gentle angles of a woman's face. He noticed the white scar on her temple. The pronounced curve of her jaw and cheekbones. "Sakura." he acknowledged.

She turned slightly towards him, "Sasuke, it's been a long time."

Everything felt so awkward, so forced. There was so much tension in the room that even the ANBU guards thought it prudent to wait beyond the double doors. Shizune excused herself, offering a 'welcome back' to Sakura before closing the door.

"You," Tsuande said pointing at Sakura, "take a seat." With a reluctant shuffle of feet, and the scrape of wood on wood, Sakura sat in front of her shishou, angling her chair away from Sasuke subtly. "You," this time she looked towards Sasuke, "need to leave or wait outside. Its very important that I listen to the details of this mission." He seemed ready to protest, but looked at the back of Sakura's head and thought better of it. "That's fine, I'm done." With one last look at her back, he strode out of the room.

"Alright," the Hokage focused her gaze on Sakura. "As you can see, you've missed some eventful things while you were gone."

Sakura kept herself as still as possible. _Eventful, was an understatement._

"Uchiha, returned nearly four months ago."

"I hadn't realized I'd been gone that long." she said with a faraway look in her eyes. Four months away from home, away from him. She would visit as soon as she got out of Tsunade's office. Clarity returning, she moved her attention back to Tsunade. "Was he caught?"

"No, no. He came back voluntarily. Itachi is dead."

Tsunade watched her student over the edge of the scroll, moving her hand back and forth over the lacquered edge of the chair. "Sakura, he just found out about Naruto. I think it would be appropriate if you took him to see him."

Her hand tightened over the armrest and her voice was forced, "Sure."

The Hokage moved away from the sore spot, "Now, there's a lot you need to tell me, I'm sure, just like there's a lot I need to tell you." She fumbled around under her desk, finally hearing the clinking of earthenware. "You start, I'll pour."

* * *

Sakura had been away for too long. There were leaves and dust and dirt scattered all across his grave. It looked dirty, unkempt, neglected; an accusation against her. "Hey," she said, sweeping away some of the leaves. "I'm sorry I haven't been around lately. This place has gotten so messy while I was gone. But, you never minded a mess, so I don't think you really care either way, eh?"

Her hand skirted across the characters of his name, fingers carving along the inscription. "It was a pretty exhausting mission, but not really dangerous, just some recon. You hated those, always said they were too dull. You're right. I would have stabbed myself with a kunai if we didn't come home when we did."

Her voice died down to a whisper, "I missed you." Her forehead fell against the cool stone and she leaned into it as if it were his chest she was reclining against, as if it were his arms that would come up to wrap themselves around her waist while she listened to the sound of his heart.

Wind stirred around her and she felt his hands on her. "You missed me too?" she breathed through a smile. "You big softie." She swiped at a tear in the corner of her eye, smearing it before it could fall. "I look like a mess," she laughed. "I'll have to get another uniform again, and my hair's a disaster, four months without conditioner will do that to a girl. I probably stink as bad as you did after training." Sakura pushed herself away from the stone, splaying her legs outward and letting her weight rest on her arms behind her. Her head snapped back, face open to the blueness overhead, it was something Naruto loved, it was also the color of his eyes and a reminder that followed her tirelessly. "Would you look at that sky," she sighed, "it's starting to get a little colder now, and were getting those winter skies you like so much. Two bowels of ramen that Shikimaru's cloud-watching."

The smile on her face faltered when there was no outburst at her bet. She picked herself up from the ground and gave a kiss to her hand before setting it on the stone, right over his name. "I love you, I'll come back tomorrow. I'm bringing the Teme to come see you. Bastard's been back for months. According to the rumor mill he strolled up to the gates like he owned the place. I'll make sure to tell you about it in the morning. Oh, and Kakashi will probably pass by after his mission, you know he likes seeing you at the monument though." She blew one last kiss at the grave and walked away, turning back to wave with a cheerful, "ja ne," even though her smile was bitter wormwood and her heart heavy as lead.


	5. Day 195: The Grave

Chapter 4

Day 195: The Grave

The knock on the door came as a surprise to him. He walked down the hall and passed one of the ANBU on the couch, already alert and looking towards the foyer. The sudden flood of light had him squinting to make out the silhouette in front of him.

"Ohayo."

Sakura stood at his front door, hair considerably cleaner than when he last saw her, and dressed in a flowing cotton dress with a jean jacket to keep off the chill.

"Hn. Isn't it a little early for visitors?"

She snorted softly, "no, Sasuke, thanks for inviting me in, but I'd rather wait in the cold."

Annoyed, he stepped aside and let her walk past him. She was looking around the sparsely decorated room when she spoke, "I didn't know you'd kept the apartment."

He choose to ignore her question, "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes were playful when they found his, "Always the businessman."

Sasuke stepped around the second ANBU at the kitchen counter, reaching for a glass of milk. "Sakura?"

Any cheerfulness her voice may have held fell away quickly and she focused on the window beside him. "We're going to see Naruto."

If he found it strange that she spoke of him like he was still alive, he didn't say. Sasuke went into the back of the apartment and came back with a jacket.

They made their way through the crowd of early-goers quietly. Sometimes she'd single out a stand that sold things she remembered him liking and other times she'd steer him away from pointed stares or harsh whispers, both of them pretending they didn't hear anything. She stopped once to pick up some flowers and a vase from the Yamanaka shop. He waited outside, blending into the shadows as best as he could on a clear, sunny day. He was glad when they finally broke away from the market road.

"How did he die?"

Sakura's head snapped up to look at him. _So much for tact_. "You're not one to tread lightly, are you?"

He almost felt bad for putting her on the spot, almost. "Just answer the question."

Sakura handed him the water-filled vase, muttering something about 'chivalry' and moved the flowers to her face, taking a whiff of the primrose and forget-me-nots. Ino's mother had said they meant eternal love. "We were on a mission," she said at last, "things went wrong and he was killed." It felt like pulling teeth just getting those words past her lips.

The vague details frustrated him. "I already know it was on a mission. I want to know specifics."

She cut him of with anger, "Well, you're not getting the details. Deal with it or go talk to someone else." He shut up the rest of the way, his pride bristling at her reaction. _This was the same girl who followed him like a lost puppy? _He reminded himself that ten years was a long time.

She led him quietly through rows of tombstones, until they came to one in the back, closer to the forest and looking freer because of the open space. A strong tree rose behind it, its boughs sweeping the floor and framing the monument.

_Uzumaki Naruto_

_Beloved Friend_

_Loyal Shinobi_

_Future Husband_

_&_

_Future Hokage_

"_You will never be forgotten."_

The epitaph unsettled him. Shocked and unsettled. To begin with it felt so dead for someone who had been so alive. He expected some flashy giant monstrosity with a 'dattebayo' quote. Not this…this permanent ending in somber stone.

Sakura read his expression, her emerald eyes dimming "I know, it doesn't do him any justice."

Sasuke looked at her from the corner of his vision, reading the fourth line over and trying to put two and two together.

"He was engaged?" _To you_, he almost added.

Her answer was quieter than he'd ever remembered her speaking, sadder too, "Yes."

"What was he to you?"

She took the vase from his hand and he caught the flash of metal on her finger.

She put the vase on the ledge of the stone and swept one hand underneath her dress as she settled onto the balls of her feet. Working the flowers into the vase she told him what he'd already guessed. "He was everything."

It struck him that she looked very small crouched over like that, one frail hand settled on the marker. "You were going to marry him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. We were supposed to get married next year, in the springtime."

Sasuke wasn't sure if he should apologize or not. His mother would have told him to, but he wasn't sure how she would take it, if it would sound sincere enough. So he offered her silence. When she started whispering to the marker he turned around and made his way to the monument.

Sakura waited for the sound of his steps to fade before she spoke aloud. "I don't know how we ever managed to befriend him, he's as approachable as a porcupine." She turned her head and watched him stop in front of the memorial, his lips moved slightly and she knew he was saying something. "But he's got a heart somewhere beneath that porcupine back. You were the first one to really see that," she told him, looking back at the marker, "you always brought out the best in people, maybe because you always managed to find it. Oh, let me update you on his homecoming, I keep my promises, just like you, 'dattebayo' and all that stuff. They shoved his ass in jail for two months and evaluated the crap out of him. He got pardoned, though. Here's the best part, he's still a genin. Can you believe that, oh and he has to do community service. The great Uchiha with a paintbrush. I wish you could see that…well, I'm sure you can. Don't laugh too hard, he is your friend after all." The color of the flowers caught her eye and she felt one of the petals. "I brought you flowers. Ino wasn't there so her mom helped me pick them. The primrose means 'I'll always love you.' and the forget-me-not is, well, self-explanatory." Her cheeks rose into a smile, "You better not forget me up there in heaven, you big idiot, 'cuz if you do I'm gonna beat the living daylights out of you when I see you again." Sakura rested her knees on the ground, unconcerned with her white dress. "How are things up there anyhow? You still eating ramen like a maniac? Yeah, you probably are. I got dressed up today, aren't you going to tell me how gorgeous I look?" She closed her eyes when the sound of his laugh rumbled through her. When she heard his voice telling her she always looked beautiful, she didn't know if it was from a memory or something else, but it felt so real, so close, that she didn't care. There were times when she swore he was standing right beside her, somehow still able to touch her. She'd sell the world just to touch him back. "I miss you so much. It's not fair." Her lips pressed briefly against the stone. A chaste kiss for something that was cold, inanimate, and dead, but she hoped that it reached him wherever he was. She hoped he could feel how much she missed him; how much it _hurt_. "I love you, forever."

The clearing of a throat made her pull back, and she coughed softly to clear her own. She stood up quickly, and passed a kiss to her hand before touching it to his name, "Ja ne, Naruto."

They walked back into town, following small, back roads. Sasuke watched Sakura subtly. Her hair was long again, swaying softly below her waist. She was taller, although at twenty-three he towered over her. There was a quiet strength about her that could fool any normal man into thinking her wiry frame was delicate. "You've gotten stronger," he remarked.

She laughed, but her eyes didn't spark, "yes, training does that."

They were passing by a vendor when she stopped to look at a group of shining, red tomatoes. He stood to the side while she picked and plucked. "When did you make ANBU?"

Sakura held up a tomato, shifting it in the morning sun, "Hm, about three years ago, I think."

He shot her a glance, "You think?"

"I don't keep much track of time anymore. I measure it more in missions than in years."

The sound of children playing made him look towards a small, community park. Two brothers were trying to outdo each other on the swings. He watched them carefully, his chest tighter than normal, blurry images of Itachi's smile marred by the fresh memory of blood blanketing his hands.

"Enjoy Miss." the old man handed her the bag of fruit, beaming back at her through a gap-filled grin.

"Arigato," she accepted, not really paying attention, wondering at the sudden darkness in Sasuke's gaze.

He followed her though when she started walking away and she relaxed. Without warning she shoved the tomatoes into his arms. "Here," she said as he rushed to keep them from falling, "be a gentleman."

When they were safely secure at his side, he voiced the question that'd been simmering in the back of his head. "How'd you make ANBU?"

She gave him a pointed glare, "I won't dignify that with an answer."

"Don't flatter yourself," he scoffed, keeping his chin tilted high, "I wouldn't waste my time trying to offend you. It was just a question."

"Well, if you're implying that Tsuande got me the job, then no, she didn't. Genma was my sponsor and Kakashi taught me what I needed to know."

Sasuke found it hard to believe that Kakashi would consent to her joining ANBU so easily. "Where is Kakashi?"

"Extended mission. He's still one of our best, mid-life crisis aside."

"And how'd he take to you joining?"

Her shoulders moved up into a shrug, "He didn't. The only reason he trained me was because I'd already filled out the application and would either get myself killed or, in the less extreme case, make a fool of myself--and by extension, him, Genma, and Tsunade. Have you talked to anyone from the Academy?" she asked abruptly, switching topics as easily as she did moods.

_Crazy girl and her bipolar personality. _"A few, no more than casual greetings. Which is why I didn't know about Naruto."

She nodded, "I see. And you didn't hear anything at all during your time with Hebi, not even rumors?" It was unusual for the news to have stayed under wraps. Naruto was practically a celebrity, and with Sand present at the funeral, word should have spread.

Sasuke's eyes were thoughtful, his mind running parallel to her train of thought. "When did he pass?"

"Four years ago." Her words came sharp and dry.

"I wasn't with Orichimaru anymore. I guess it was just coincidence I never heard anything." _Or blind obsession with his brother,_ an honest part of him laughed hollowly.

When Sakura started walking down another street, one that led away from his apartment, he held up her groceries. "What about the tomatoes?"

She turned slightly, her voice sounding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They're for you, you idiot. Who else would eat that many tomatoes!"

He watched her back disappear behind an old partition wall, the alley winding towards a modest section of town. When not even the crest of her pink hair could be seen he moved away, three pounds of his favorite fruit swinging from his hand.

* * *

"Why do you think his death affected you so much?"

Sasuke stared at Yoshida, a spark of dubiousness rising from the angry black fire raging in his eyes. _Don't strangle him. Think about your probation._

"What the hell do you mean, why did it affect me? You fucking kill your brother and then tell me how you feel."

Yoshida tapped his pen on his notepad, "Sasuke, I'm trying to help you. What I meant was, if you hated him so thoroughly, then why did it hurt you so much to kill him?"

The psychologist's heart skipped a beat when Sasuke sprang to his feet, only when his wild eyes whipped away from him, did Yoshida's pulse settle.

Pacing like a caged dog, Sasuke stared at the indentions his feet made in the rug. "I had admired him, adored him when I was a child. He was my hero, he was my brother and I worshipped the ground he walked on."

"You loved him."

The pupils in his eyes contracted when his head snapped to the window, voice nails on a chalkboard, "_yes_."

"From what you've told me, you identified best with him. You're father was too strict and you're mother though loving, always wielded to him. But Itachi didn't. Itachi was both strong and kind, he gave you his love and guidance. At the same time there was a root of jealously when you saw yourself below him, when he was the prodigy and you the ignored child."

"Stop me if I'm wrong." Sasuke's scowl deepened when Yoshida continued.

"That's natural among siblings. You loved him very much regardless. But he betrayed you when he did what he did. He destroyed you because you would have believed it was anyone but him."

His hands curled into fists, nails scraping the inside of his palm. _Don't strangle him._

The ANBU outside turned his head slightly, casting a wary glance at Sasuke. His chakra was spiraling dangerously out of control. He kept one cautious eye on the Uchiha's murderous glare while the conversation continued within the room.

"Can you tell me what happened when he died, what you felt."

There was silence for a long time. Yoshida licked his lips and prepared another question, sure that this one wouldn't be answered. Opening his mouth to speak, Yoshida caught himself at Sasuke's weary voice.

"I charged at him with my sword, with chidori. We were both tired, but it was an easy attack to avoid. I thought he would get out of the way. I thought we would fight until either he killed me, or we killed each other. But Itachi stayed where he was and I buried the hilt of my sword in his stomach." Sasuke brought his hand up, watching it with grim fascination. It fell back to his side and he stared past the window and the ANBU sitting there. Yoshida was certain he wasn't seeing the mountains or the buildings. "In the shinobi world, the only kindness we can expect in a losing fight is a quick death. You're a doctor, you should know that stomach wounds take a very long time to kill. It took him twenty minutes to die."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He wouldn't let go of my hand and I couldn't force myself to leave his side, even though I wanted to, even though he was the murderer of my entire family. He apologized and he thanked me, thanked me for killing him." By the time he'd finished Sasuke's breath was coming in quiet gasps. His hands were sweaty yet cold and he felt pressure building behind his eyes and throat, clamping around his chest.

Yoshida pushed a little further, "you felt guilt."

"He was my brother."

"Yes and you found that it was just as painful to kill him as it was to come home to your family's death."

The room grew heavy with the sound of his breathing, tension strangling life from the very air.

"Sasuke, I think that's enough for today."

Face pale, he nodded, turning to fly from the room, from the demons nicking at his heels. He had one foot out the office, when Yoshida spoke again. The empathy in his voice made Sasuke dig his fingers into the frame of the door. "Sasuke, its okay to feel hurt and angry and guilty. You've proved yourself a strong man, you're not heartless and you don't need to be."

Sasuke stumbled from the building, lapping at the fresh air outside with the ferocity of a man possessed. He placed a trembling hand on the concrete wall, straitening his back as much as his heaving chest would allow. Images of blood threaded themselves into his vision, Itachi's crimson eyes spiraled up from the ground. Chocking on a gasp, Sasuke pushed away from the building and set a path to his house, eyes narrowing to the road below him. _Right foot, left foot, right, left, right, left._ He could feel the ANBU watching him closely, clenching his hands to stop them from trembling, he pushed the burning in his throat back down and lifted his head up high. But his steps, as calm and easy as he made them, carried all the serenity of a liar.

* * *

"Akatsuki is on the move."

Tsunade shot a glance towards the window, where Kakashi was crouching on the ledge, silver hair glowing against the moonless night. She turned back to her work as he dropped into the room. "What have you heard."

His form dropped into a chair gracelessly. She noted from the edge of her vision the circles under his eyes, the bloody mess of his uniform, the splints running along one arm, and the telltale shallow breaths of a bruised rib. "You look like hell."

"Otogakure is rallying under Nakagawa Masaru. He's their new Kage, and also under Akatsuki's thumb." Kakashi reached for the cup she held to him, letting his mask pool at his neck. He downed the contents in one desperate swallow.

Tsunade poured him another round, taking a sip of her own sake.

"Sakura came back from her mission recently. Her team found some interesting things. There's been a lot of movement in Amegakure. Weapon shipments coming and going from the village."

Kakashi ran his thumb along the rim of his cup. "Is she alright?"

Tsunade waved her hand and searched through the sea of papers on her desk, "She's fine, looked better than you at any rate. You're going to get those injuries checked when you leave here."

"Of course."

"It's treason to lie to me. Where's that damn…got it." She pulled at a red silk chord and stuck the key dangling at the end into the topmost drawer of her desk.

"Her report said Amegakure has increased food production, and their industrial activity has skyrocketed. Shinobi recruiting and training has increased significantly. They've implemented a new program too, to train civilians." She looked through the numbers on the scroll.

"They're stocking up," Kakashi added.

"Yes." her eyes narrowed and she pressed a hand to her temple. "They're a stone's throw away from mobilizing."

They grew quiet, only the soft crackle of the fireplace adding to their thoughts. They had seen enough of the world to know what this information meant. War was coming. And Konoha wasn't ready.

"Suna isn't enough," Kakashi murmured

"No, it isn't," she said, reaching for a blank scroll. She dipped a brush into a pot of black ink reserved for state documents. The first strokes of the brush were passing over the creamy paper when she spoke again, "Sasuke's back."

"We need to make another alliance," he began, but stopped abruptly as he processed what she said. "What?"

"Working on it, and yes, you heard correctly." It was a special occasion when anyone left Kakashi speechless, and she took the time to appreciate it.

"When," he finally recuperated and he poured himself another cup of sake, the situation certainly merited it.

"A little over four months ago." Tsunade scribbled out a mistake with a frown. She'd have to make this a draft.

He worked around a sip of sake, the dryness in the back of his throat receding, "where is he?" his voice was skeptical.

Tsunade spared him an angry glare, "He's not in jail. Your arrogant asshole of a student is on probation so shove your criticisms back where they came from."

"Hai, hai."

Kakashi stood, mindful of his rib. When she didn't scream at him to sit his ass back down he moved towards the window. "Are we done?"

"Yes. He's in his old apartment, if you're interested."

Kakashi looked at the back of her head. "Hokage-san,"

"Hm?" She kept herself hunched over the scroll, paying minimal attention.

"My thanks."

The brush in her hand paused over the page, the stream of ink bleeding into the character, ruining it. She waved her hand dismissively, "Whatever."

He was gone before she could cross out the blotched word.

* * *

The ANBU outside opened the door for him, switching the cigarette to his other hand. "I thought you're not supposed to smoke." he told the man as he passed.

"We all have our vices." Kakashi didn't recognize the voice and moved into the apartment with a shrug. Sasuke was in the kitchen, standing over the sink, washing a ridiculously large pile of tomatoes.

"Never thought I'd see you prepping food."

Sasuke didn't move from his place, or falter in his movements, he'd felt Kakashi's chakra the minute he walked in. The black-haired man observed his old teacher from the window's reflection.

"You look like crap. Older too."

"I'm not very popular tonight." Kakashi sighed, pulling out a stool from the counter, making sure to lean on his good side.

Uchiha ran his thumb across the smooth skin of a tomato, "what do you want?"

"A glass of water." The corner of eyes crinkled into a smile.

"I don't play host," Sasuke muttered, pushing another tomato under the faucet.

Kakashi ignored the stab in his side, pushing off the chair.

"Won't even spare a wounded man." He didn't miss the way Sasuke paused in his work, his hand hovering over the pile of fruit. "I didn't mean that," he said, opening the first cabinet he spotted and then another, until he found a group of six carefully placed glass cups.

Sasuke didn't acknowledge him, shifting instead his weight from one foot to the other.

He walked to the sink, sticking the cup under the faucet and cutting Sasuke's water supply. "Are you going to say anything beyond monosyllables."

"You. Are. A-nnoy-ing. That's five."

"Smartass."

"I've been told."

Kakashi headed towards the couch. The idea of padded furniture making his ribs sing. "So, when do the bodyguards leave?" The ANBU on the adjacent chair didn't move at his comment.

Sasuke ground out his answer reluctantly, "A year."

"Two." the masked man coughed.

Kakashi held back a laugh at Sasuke's growl. "One year in the house. One outside."

"My sympathies." Kakashi angled his face away from the ANBU, pulling down his mask slightly and brining the cup to his lips. "You should be grateful," he said in-between sips, "the council let you off easy."

"Hn."

"Have you seen Sakura?"

"Yes."

Kakashi paused, "Naruto?"

Sasuke turned off the faucet and moved to pick up a towel. "Yes," he replied, patting dry a tomato and leaving the rest to drain in the sink.

"He's been missed. You both have." The ANBU stood casually and walked outside, Kakashi silently appreciating the gesture.

"Ah." Sasuke finally said, waiting for the click of the door.

"Monosyllable-idiot."

"Hn." He took a knife from a drawer and cut the tomato into slices, scooping them onto a plate and picking up a fork and some salt before coming to sit where the ANBU had been.

"You killed him?"

He was perfectly aware the question was about his brother. Everything, it seemed, was about his brother. Sasuke skewered a slice, pushing back the red from his eyes. "Yes."

Kakashi stayed silent, settling into the couch, unsure how to respond.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

Uchiha set the plate aside, untouched. "You were right."

Silence, heavy and suffocating. Kakashi looked towards him and waited.

"Vengeance brought me nothing."

Kakashi let out a tired breath. "Do you regret it?"

His hair fell across his face and he shook his head. "No. He killed my family and that's something I couldn't forgive, no matter the cost."

Kakashi ran a hand--his only good hand--through his hair, shooting a glance at his student. The boy he'd trained and cared for, the boy who'd reminded him so much of himself. "When I was younger," he started softly, "I wanted to avenge those I'd lost. But it didn't bring them back, or bring me any closer to peace, on the contrary. I didn't tell you all those things when you were thirteen for nothing. I was hoping to keep you from making my mistakes."

"Sorry to disappoint you." the sarcasm in his voice was harsh even to his own ears.

"I'm not trying to patronize you, and I'm not angry at you--not too angry anyhow. I understand your motives and I think you were in your right to seek revenge, but I won't say you were right for leaving. I'm sure you're aware it was the stupidest thing you could have done."

"Those who abandon their friends are worse than trash, eh?"

"That's right."

When Sasuke's chakra flared, he knew the conversation was over. _Stubborn, angry b_oy. "I'm going to get Sakura to patch me up. I'll see you later."

His hand was twisting the doorknob when Sasuke spoke, voice quiet.

"I wish I could have stayed." It was the closest thing to an apology he could offer.

Kakashi paused, and turned his head, "I know."

* * *

It was two am when Sakura was jarred awake by the screaming and banging of her ANBU teammate, Ichirou. She dragged herself from a truly dreamless, bone-weary sleep--the first one in a while. Pulling on a sweater and some jogging pants, she marched to the door with the stumbling steps of a man wading through swamp water, murder written over the heavy lids of her eyes. By the time she'd thrown open the door, she'd tripped over the rug in the hallway, stubbed her toe on a kitchen stool, and was ready to castrate the little bastard who was waking up the entire neighborhood.

Ichirou stepped away when the red door was ripped open and a disheveled Sakura glared at him with bloodshot eyes and a black frown. He held up his hands and burst out with his message to avoid the worst of the danger, "AKIRA'S HAVING HIS BABY!"

"Why the hell are you knocking down my door at two fucking am in the," the loud--obnoxious--scream of Ichirou contained three very important words that, once registered, made her pause. _Akira. Having. Baby._ Sakura blinked away the sand from her eyes, "what! Now? You mean now!"

Ichirou snorted, "no, I'm a masochist and this is really just a prank to get you to pummel me," he threw up his hands in exasperation, "YES, NOW!!!"

Sakura picked the key from the coat hook and locked the door to her house, following Ichirou down the lightless streets of her neighborhood and towards the hospital.

When they stepped into the warm glow of Konoha General Hospital, they were greeted by a nervous Hisao, pacing the floor. His head snapped up to them, "Kami, what took you so long!"

He grabbed Sakura and Ichirou, dragging them to the maternity ward, past the front desk attendant--who seemed very upset that they didn't register.

"The woman's already down to five minutes! I think Akira's going to faint!"

It turned out, they were running for no reason. The maternity ward was silent, the eerie quiet of the graveyard shift pulsing softly through the halls. They passed by a tired nurse writing wearily at her station and through the sunny yellow door of room 314. Akira was sitting patiently by his wife, both of who stared up with curies eyes at their harried arrival. Panting, Sakura looked around the room, "where's the doctor! Hisao said you were having contractions five minutes apart!"

Akira smiled in the soft, subtle way she'd gotten used to. "Braxton Hicks," he offered by way of explanation.

Sakura let out an exhausted sigh and ambled out into the hallway, falling into the first chair she found in the waiting room. The dimmed lights of the hospital--and cheap budgets--was a small favor to her. Stifling a yawn, she rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes as a resentful Ichirou sat beside her. She drifted quickly, listening as the sound of Ichirou complaining about hysterical teammates turned to white noise in the background.

"_What do you think about having a baby?"_

_Sakura stiffened against him, "what?"_

_Naruto stroked the skin at her shoulder, pulling the sheets over them with his other hand. "A baby," he repeated, "what do you think about having a baby?" _

_Sakura thought it best to make light of the situation rather than enter into an argument. She planted a playful kiss on his chest, "I like the making part." _

_Naruto huffed, "I'm serious." _

_So much for quiet, morning-after cuddling. With a sigh, Sakura rose onto an elbow, keeping a hand on the sheets over her breasts. She looked at him, "you want to have a baby? Now?"_

_He blushed, "No, in the future." _

"_How far in the future?"_

"_After we're married."_

_She wrinkled her nose at his ambiguity, "when?"_

_Naruto offered her a hesitant smile, "as soon as we're married."_

_Sakura held his gaze for a minute and then collapsed against him with an indignant scowl, "you're __**not**__ knocking me up as soon as we tie the knot."_

_He dragged her against him and nuzzled her neck, "I want children when we're married, don't you?"_

"_Naruto," she began cautiously, "I'm not really sure right now."_

_She thought she felt his heart skip painfully at her words. "Don't you ever think about it? What it'd be like to have a family? Our family?" His last two words were emphasized with the raw whisper of his voice._

"_I," the subject was hard for her to breech. She often saw how he looked at families, with a yearning that was painted as clear as day over his features. And he was so good with children too. But she wasn't. She had such a hard time picturing herself as a mother, especially with her career--one she wasn't very willing to give up. "Naruto," she tried again, "I…I just don't think about it that much."_

"_Oh."_

_An uncomfortable silence wrapped itself around them. She watched the curtain flutter when the fan turned its way, taking it as a good sign that his arms were still wound tightly around her, that he was still drawing little designs across her skin. _

"_Don't you think I'd make a good father," he all but breathed. _

_Her face fell and she pushed back a little to look at him, "That's not it," she assured him. "Kids adore you Naruto, what would give you that idea?" _

_His eyes moved away from her face and he tried to laugh it off, "I don't know, I just never had a dad myself and maybe I wouldn't know how."_

_Sakura touched his face, ashamed she'd made him think less of himself, "nobody knows how to be a father, but there are people who are good at learning it. I think you're one of them. You'd make a wonderful dad."_

"_I hope I do. I want to be the best dad ever."_

"_I know you'll be, just like you'll be the best Hokage ever. Don't tell Shishou I said that."_

_Naruto kissed her temple, then her cheek, and finally her lips. Halfway looming over her, he rested his weight on the arm next to her, "are you afraid of being a mom?"_

_She could kill him for choosing the worst times to be perceptive. Biting the inside of her cheek, she gave him the honest answer he deserved, "yeah. Yeah I am."_

_He kissed her again, pulling away swiftly, wearing her favorite smile. "I think you'd make the bestest, most beautiful mom ever."_

"_Bestest isn't a word."_

"_I know."_

_She laughed and decided that children would be a bridge they'd cross another day. _

Sakura's dream-memory was pulled apart as the deafening screams of Akira's wife tore through the maternity ward. She jolted from her chair, thinking herself in the belly of ANBU's interrogation unit. When the next scream ripped the air, she wrinkled her eyes in distaste, trying hard to keep a grimace from rising to the surface. Ichirou snapped out of a snore in time to catch the decrescendo. Sakura found it impressive that a quiet woman like Yukari could scream with the force of a soprano.

A characteristically dramatic Hisao thrust his head into the room, hair askew. Hand biting into the doorframe, he wasted only a second to yell at them, "the baby's coming," before running back out into the hallway.

Sakura and Ichirou shared a look before following after him. It seemed Hisao wasn't, for once, exaggerating. The outside of room 314 was crowded with four hospital employees in green scrubs, two of which were wheeling a gurney.

Yukari was pulled out in the midst of a painful contraction, Akira keeping step with her, looking much more scattered than Sakura had ever seen him. His wife tried to drag him into the delivery room with her, face twisted with the fear of a first-time mother. Had Akira been anyone but himself--disciplined beyond even ANBU levels--he'd probably have followed her without fault. Already his right foot was angled towards the room, practically twitching with an anxiety he rarely showed. Sakura walked up to him hesitantly, resting a hand on his shoulder, "they'll let you in as soon as they're ready," she spotted the tired nurse they'd seen on their way in, "go talk to her and tell her you want to get prepped for the delivery. She'll tell you what to do."

A slight smile and soft squeeze of her hand was what she expected, and what he did.

He was walking away with the nurse when Ichirou draped his arm across her with a drawn out _ahhhh,_ "our own little medic-nin, giving our captain hospital intel. What would we do without you?"

"Get off, you lecher."

Ichirou winked at her and looked towards Hisao, "you know I only have one man in my life."

She smiled at his poppy-red blush, Ichirou's body shaking beside her with laughter.

It was another hour of bad jokes and contraction-fueled screams before Yoshida Hiroaki greeted the world with a wheeze and a cry. Once his parents had spent enough time with him, the double doors to the delivery room swung open softly, Akira stepping out cautiously with a bundle no bigger than a sack of sugar, holding it with a gentleness unknown to him before. Ichirou sprung up to him right away, Hisao at his heels. Sakura chose to watch them, to see the wonder on the faces of her younger friends and the rapture on the face of her captain. She saw Naruto's smile flicker over Akira's thin lips and for a moment his eyes were blue and his hair was blond. She had to hold her breath and count the stitches on her sandals before moving closer to them, arms leaden at her side.

Hiroaki had a round, soft face, still red with the heat of his mother. A smile wrapped around her when he opened his mouth into an "O."

"He looks constipated." Only Ichirou could be completely honest in the company of a new, proud, ANBU father.

"He's perfect," Hisao amended. Either way, it didn't matter, Akira was already convinced he was.

"I'm going to ask you something I know I shouldn't." Akira's voice had always been soft, but now, in the presence of his first son, it was a whisper. "If something ever goes wrong," the faces of his team were twisting into protest. He pushed on despite it, "will you look out for my family?"

Akira didn't realize that his wife had asked Sakura the very same thing. The medic-nin had given her word to protect not just Hiroaki, but his father.

"We will. But we won't have to because you'll be there." Ichirou looked at them, "am I right or am I right?"

An answer wasn't necessary.


	6. Day 312: The Lost

**Chapter 5**

**Day 312: The Lost**

There were swirls of sounds twisting through her head; muted colors blending into spirals and springing apart; smells suffocated by a thick film. Her breaths were shallow and languid, like her limbs and the blood in her veins. The inside of her mouth was peeled and dry, bubbling with blisters, her tongue swollen with the taste of copper. Hard earth pushed at her hips, damp soil seeping into her clothes. Her eyes shifted ahead of her--past the bloody curve of her forearm, across her wrist, over her hand--and settled on a stark, white blob.

_The scroll!_ She could see the scroll inches away, a bloated, moving block of cream. Recognition clawed through the haze. It was important, she had to get the scroll.

"_Get the scroll, Sakura!" _

Her hand inched towards it. The whisper of an order edging it on. She didn't know that she'd touched it until her fingers wrapped around it. Everything was a sluggish trickle of morphine.

_Drip_

_Drip, Drip_

_Drip, Drip, Drip_

"_How much did you give her?"_

"_Enough to keep her dreaming."_

Sakura raked her nails through crumbling oak bark, numb to the splinters tearing into the soft flesh of nail bed. The ground writhed beneath her knees, or was that her? Earth and sky clashed in a sickening kiss before settling into a foggy horizon. Her head lulled lazily against her chest, sweat rolling across her skin unnoticed. Her senses were molasses, so muted that she couldn't even feel the kunai lodged between her ribs. One dilated eye peeked through a tattered curtain of pink. _Was that her hair? Yes, pink, that's right. _The drug was making every reaction so sluggish, she barely understood herself, much less the spinning world around her_. _Her hands pressed themselves against her eyes, until her palms grated against bone. _Stop. Stop spinning!_ Her groan was lost in the cottony silence.

"_You better make sure she doesn't OD."_

"_She won't, she'll be plenty awake for us later." _

Sakura pushed herself from the tree. Memory, feeling, urging her to hurry. "_Get to Konoha! Go!" _The voice tore through her, the flash of a face passing with it. Patches of red quilted the ground around her, angry welts against the murky canvas of green. There were black dots thrown haphazardly, like beads from a broken rosary. Her pupils couldn't bring them into focus, but the echo of a word swam to the surface of her mind, _bodies._ She fell to the side and heaved, the nauseating smell and sudden movement almost making her sick again. She pushed herself up, not caring to swipe a hand across her mouth, concentrating instead on keeping her swaying frame standing. Sakura's legs were shaking saplings beneath her, weak and foreign. She felt detached from everything--limbs, feelings, sensations, surroundings--mind flying overhead in what she guessed would be the best--or worst--high a junkie could ask for.

The crush of underbrush had her head snapping back. She regretted it instantly, whatever sight she had was compromised in a furious whiplash of movement.

_Focus_

_Focus_

_Focus!_

Her heart beating a tattoo within her chest, she stared at the moving blur of black. She felt something sticking from her ribcage, her fingers recognized the handle of a kunai. She waited behind the tree, the forest braiding and unbraiding itself in a sea of shapes and colors. _Focus._ Her breath left her mouth dryer still and her grip tightened on the kunai. But she didn't even have time to move before she was rammed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The scroll flew from her hand. Sakura clawed at the figure, tearing at his blurry face. The world was upside down, spiraling, her vision was unfocused snippets of arms, flashes of blood, glances of leaves, snatches of sky or dirt. The figure struck her hard across her cheek and she rolled to the side. Her hand fell over a rock and she let her fingers curl around it. She saw him grab the scroll, turning it to ash with his touch. Her heart plummeted. His other hand hooked around her ankle and drew her back in a rough swoop. Not wasting the momentum, she swung the rock into his head and watched him stumble to his elbows. With one shuddering yell, she pulled the kunai from her side and dug it into his scalp, just beside the temple. His body pressed against her legs, heavy with death. She waited for the spinning to settle, too out of it to feel the pain of blood dripping from the hole in her side. Her eyelids kissed and stars danced behind them. Sakura wasn't sure which was worse, the feel of her dead enemy crushing her legs, the whirling twists of forest landscape, or the stomach-churning motion within her. Before she had enough time to decide, the drug had pulled her under, stifling the sudden thought of teammates and drawing a veil of darkness across her mind.

* * *

Shizune was walking towards the Hokage's office, a hefty pile of files clutched securely to her breast and the sound of her boots clicking lightly behind her. Her hair flapped wildly in a sudden sweep of wind. Another rare cold front had wrapped Konoha in a blanket of chilled air and cloudless sky. Shizune dug her chin deep into the folds of her scarf, hiding away from the gale. The peek of green timber drew her gaze towards the main gate. Her feet slowed and she watched the road. Sakura's file grew heavy in her arms. Three months and still no word. ANBU was declaring her team MIA, and if the evidence they'd found thus far was anything to go on, Shizune feared she'd have to move the files to KIA. Kakashi crept up beside her and she turned her head slightly.

"Hatake-san"

He didn't acknowledge her right away, instead setting his haunted eyes on the road ahead. His frame was tense and his voice weary when he spoke, "Is that her file?"

Shizune cleared her throat gently, "yes."

"They're declaring her MIA."

It wasn't a question and Shizune felt her heart shrink at the defeat in his words, "There's hope," she offered lamely, "I'm sure we'll find her."

Kakashi moved his gaze to the ground and even she knew how pathetic her statement was.

Shizune reached out a hand to him, but it stopped mid-motion. There was a shift in the air, something unrelated to winter weather. Kakashi snapped to attention, staring openly past the main gates. The guards ahead grew rigid, backs stiff and straight. A matted mop of pink hair crested the horizon. Kakashi took a step forward, unbelieving. His chest drew in a lungful of air and held onto it. Shizune froze beside him, files dropping to the earth.

Sakura was walking slowly, swaying weakly like some newborn calf as she moved. Her uniform was grey and rust, dirt and blood, the luster of fresh crimson running down her side. They could barely feel her chakra and the paleness of her skin was disconcerting. Her eyes lifted towards them, dull and exhausted, feverish and unfocused. With one soft exhale she dropped to her knees in a boneless heap, shoulders and arms jarring beside her. Konoha's name spilled from her lips like a prayer as she hit the ground. Kakashi ripped towards her, Shizune at his heels.

With all the gentleness of a man touching bone china, Kakashi turned her onto her back. Her skin was clammy and ashen, face gaunt with sunken cheeks. He could practically feel death pulling at her soul. "Kami," the plea fell from his lips in a shudder.

Shizune was already pulling at her vest, kunai slicing at the ties. He could see her ribs through translucent skin, a gaping slash curled with blood and infection glared back at him. Shizune drew on her chakra and sent a silent prayer to whatever gods were out there. "Sakura," she prompted, touching the wound with glowing hands.

Kakashi called her name next, "Sakura," he intoned, desperation seeping into his hard tone, "Sakura!" She lay absolutely silent, unresponsive even to Shizune's tinkering of her wound. He felt useless, she was dying in his arms and he was powerless to stop it. He was a child all over again. Kakashi tucked his head beside her ear, "Sakura," he begged, "wake up." He felt her breath rasp in protest. His heart leapt into his throat and he watched her face, anxiety, hope, fear, wrapping around him. Her eyes peeled open, pupils contracting at the morning light, "Kakashi?". Cringing at the sandpaper of her voice, he let out a shaky laugh, one part relief, ten parts despair, "in the flesh." She gripped Shizune's arm with surprising strength, pulling it away and making the flash of chakra waver.

Shizune reached for the wound again, but Sakura held her steady, "Shizune you have to tell shishou." The urgency in her gaze made Shizune pause briefly. "You can tell her later."

A pair of ANBU were drawing a circle around them, penning symbols and ruins. Sakura closed her eyes as a cough wracked her frame. She pulled at her arm again, "Now. No time."

Kakashi grabbed Sakura's hand gently, "there's plenty of time."

Her voice was a weak, dry rasp, but commanding in its desperation, "No! Listen to me." She paused to choke down a gasp of air, "Tsunade needs to know. The scroll was destroyed. They ruined it. We…were ambushed. They knew. They Knew! A traitor." Her words were slurred and nonsensical, delusional. Shizune spared a glance at the dangerous puddle of blood beneath her. She pushed down on the wound and Sakura writhed. "I'm sorry."

Kakashi squeezed her hand and smoothed the hair at her forehead, "Sakura, what traitor?"

"They knew, Kakashi. They knew!" her eyes rolled back and Kakashi griped her shoulders.

"Focus, Sakura! Come on, stay awake."

_Focus. _The word pulled Sakura from the blackness at the edge of her vision. "Our target knew. Knew my name. He was waiting for us. Traitor…Konoha's got a traitor."

Shizune looked at the ANBU before he completed the final sign, "Get the Hokage." He let his head nod in the affirmative and pulled his fingers into a tiger seal. The swirl of a transportation jutsu shot through them.

When Sakura next opened her eyes she was met by blearing white. Hands tugged at her clothes, and prodded at her. Pain roared to life from her side at the touch of more hands. She pushed them away, fought against them, kicked and clawed at them. "Calm down!"

_"She's not cooperating."_

"_Well, persuade her," a low voice spoke._

They were trying to shove something down her throat. "Stop! Stop!" she yelled, adrenaline lending her voice substance.

_Hands pushed her down, jabbing fingers pried her jaw apart and forced hot liquid into her mouth. The flesh of her mouth caught fire. She spat at a face and heard the scream that followed. A strike at her head. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Someone straddled her. More hands. Pinning weight on her legs and torso. Jaw split open and more liquid fire. A clamp over her nose and mouth. She choked and felt it run up her nose. It burned! Kami, it burned! She couldn't breathe. She gagged. Tears streamed down her cheeks. More hands. Fingers clamping her mouth shut. A swallow and a scream as her esophagus lit up with pain. _

"Get a tranquilizer!"

She thrashed against the hands, screaming and tearing, trying to rip them off her.

Another pair of hands gripped her arms, "Sakura! Sakura, stop! It's me, Shizune!"

"Shizune," Sakura recognized.

"Yes."

"Kakashi!" she rasped.

"He's waiting behind the curtain. You're in the emergency room."

She snatched her arm away from the needle-wielding nurse. "Wait."

"Sakura," Shiuzune's voice was serious and she grasped her chin in her hands, "you're seriously injured. We're prepping you for surgery! Tell me later!"

Sakura pulled Shizune's head to her and spoke in her ear, "Rain's mobilized, they've signed an alliance with Rock. Sound is being absolved by them. Someone from Konoha is helping them!"

Shizune's eyes widened and she pulled back to stare at Sakura. "You're sure?"

Darkness was dragging her back, the light overhead whirling like a colorless kaleidoscope, but she managed one final word before everything disappeared.

"Yes."

* * *

Sasuke found Kakashi sitting in a row of standard hospital chairs, elbows resting on knees, and head cradled in his hands. His shoulders were slumped forward, the curve of his back pronounced. He looked weary, tired; a shinobi old enough to know death well. Sasuke took a seat beside him. "How is she?"

"I don't know. They haven't said."

Uchiha spared a glance at the double doors far towards the end of the hallway. The light above them was on, warning against entrance.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

"ANBU guards, remember?" his head nodded ever so slightly at the men leaning against a wall. "They caught the transmission on their communicators. One of them knows her, dragged me over here."

"Ah."

Silence stretched out between them. The fluorescent light overhead flickered.

Sasuke passed his thumb over the lacquer of his armrest. "How bad was she?"

Kakashi turned his head slightly, a brief glance of his uncovered eye peeking through silver hair. Sasuke didn't miss the glassiness of it, or the red veins that flashed angrily across soft white. His voice was clinically cold, detached, "she had a bad slash in her side, deep between the ribs; a kunai, maybe. She was sick with infection and emancipated. Lost a lot of blood too."

Sasuke licked his lips, unease crawling silently through his veins. The part of him that belonged to darker days, to underground fortresses and slithering tongues, recoiled against his worry, tried to eat it at and spit it back out. _Worry, empathy, pity were beneath him_. But one look at Kakashi, one memory of his mother, of Naruto, one thought of Sakura lying cold on an operating table, made him tuck back the callousness. Orochimaru's monster raged against him when the echo of sprinting footsteps set his heart racing. Sasuke looked down the hall, one doctor and two nurses were running towards the operating room, dressed in sterile gear. Kakashi got to his feet slowly, face paling at the words that crackled over the doctor's hand-held radio, "_Code Blue! Code Blue in OR 3! Staff on standby please respond."_ The medics pounded through the double doors and for the brief moment before the door swung shut, the blaring, uninterrupted screech of a heart monitor cut through the hall.

* * *

_She could feel his smile against her lips. His hand curled behind her neck, fingers stroking the skin there softly, tenderly. Naruto pulled back slowly and rested his forehead against hers, "I love you." He pressed another kiss against her lips and she touched his face lovingly. He drew her to him and held her close, dropping his chin onto the crown of her head. She wound her arms around his back and pressed him to her with all the strength she had, never wanting to let go. She nuzzled his neck and drew his scent deep into her lungs, as if she could bottle it away within her heart. _

_Naruto combed his fingers through her hair, eyes the same vibrant blue she saw at every corner, "you're beautiful."_

_Her breath caught in her throat and she pushed back tears. "I've missed you so much."_

_He kissed her cheek, "I know. I've missed you too, more than ramen." _

_The softness in his eyes was enough to make her cry. _

_His thumb plucked a tear from her cheek. Taking her hand in his, he sat beneath an old tree, its branches heavy with tiny, white flowers. He draped an arm around her shoulder and she curled into his side, fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm, as if she were made for him and he for her. "I love you, Naruto."_

_His fingers drew lazy circles on the inside of her hand, "I know."_

_"Always and forever," her words carried conviction, promise._

_"Dattebayo, eh?" the lightness in his voice made her spirit soar._

_"Yes."_

_She heard him sigh and looked up, chin tilted to meet his gaze curiously._

_Naruto smiled back at her and then grinned, "You look like a puppy-dog." _

_She couldn't even pretend to be offended. He could call her anything he wanted as long as he stayed where he was. Sakura brought her head back to his chest and laid her ear over his heart. It was a lullaby she could only dream of and she found no regret in knowing she was dead, or in questioning why the dead had heartbeats._

_When his drumming pulse had nearly lulled her to sleep, he spoke again and she found her eyes drifting shut anyway, soothed by the timbre of his voice rumbling though his chest._

_"Sakura-chan," he asked, shaking her lightly._

_"Mm?"_

_"Did you hear me?"_

_"No," she answered sleepily._

_She felt his laugh reverberate beneath her, and her lips curled into a smile. Stay with me._

_"What?" _

_Her eyes pulled open slightly, "did I say that aloud?" _

_"Sakura-chan, you can't stay here," his voice was quiet, regretful._

_A fleeting fear shot through her chest, "Why not?"_

_He stroked her hair, "because it's not time yet, and hopefully it won't be for a very, very long time."_

_She felt the stirrings of anger rile up in her, "I've had a good life, I'm leaving no children or parents behind, and the only man I love is waiting for me here." _

_He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing her eyes towards him, "you have a whole life ahead of you. I love you more than anything and I don't want to see you here until that life is lived." His gaze was intense, blue eyes swirling with fire. Leaning down, he pressed a desperate kiss to her lips, pouring his soul into it. She melted beneath him and brought her hands behind his neck, but he held onto them before she could wrap them around him. Eyes still smoldering, he whispered his next words, "I don't want you to forget me, Sakura-chan,"_

_"I'd never," he cut her off before she finished._

_"But I do want you to move on."_

_"Naruto, what are you talking about!?"_

_He kissed her again with as much passion and despair as the last time, but before she could reciprocate he drew back._

_"Tease."_

_His smile disarmed her, electrified her pulse._

_"Sakura-chan, I want you to be happy and when the time comes I want you to love again."_

_With one last heart-stopping kiss to end her protests, he disappeared._

_She stumbled against the tree, palms outstretched to break her fall. Her chest wrenched, her shoulders shook, her heart wailed._

_"Naruto"_

_"Naruto!"_

_"NARUTO!"_

_She slid to the ground and let his name rip from her lips in an agonizing scream._

* * *

Sakura wrenched awake, Naruto's name rending the air. Her chest heaved and the wound at her side roared to life. A heart monitor marked an agitated tempo. Something pushed her back towards the softness of the bed. Looking past the length of a strong arm she found Kakashi staring at her. Tears welled in her eyes and she let them roll down her face.

Kakashi touched her face, alarmed. "Sakura, Sakura, it's alright!"

A sob tore through her and she reached up to him. He wrapped his arms around her awkwardly, trying to avoid the rails on the bed, the tubes sticking out from her, and the dangerous tear in her side. Sakura couldn't care less about the pain though, she hugged him to her and wept like she hadn't done since Naruto's funeral.

"I saw him, Kakashi! He talked to me!" Her cries tore themselves from her chest, from the furthest depths of her soul. She shook and screamed into his jacket even through the burning of her side and the accelerating frenzy of the heart monitor.

Kakashi passed a hand over her hair. "Shh, it's okay." His words, meant to soothe, only distressed her more. If anything her cries increased.

"No! No, it's not! Naruto was right there! Right in front of me! He kissed me and then he told me I couldn't go with him! But I wanted to! Oh, kami," her words were gaping, aching wounds.

"I'm sorry, Sakura. I'm sorry."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her arms trembled around him. The weakness of her grip and the agitation of the heart monitor were scaring him, the great Hatake Kakashi terrified by a tiny, pink-haired girl falling apart in his arms. Pressing his face into Sakura's hair, Kakashi closed his eyes and let her cry.

"I miss him so much it hurts. It fucking hurts and I want it to stop!" Her hands found anchor in his neck and she sunk her head into his shoulder.

"I know," he whispered.

He spared a quick glance at an incoming nurse, carrying a syringe into the room with her. It only took a minute for Sakura's wails to calm after the tranquilizer had been introduced into her IV. By the time he pulled away her eyes were already drifting closed. He held her hand as she watched him, breath slowing from heaving gasps to soft inhales. "It hurts," she murmured. "It hurts."

Naruto's touch passed through her and she let herself fall into it. Sakura drifted to sleep with the echo of his caress and the image of Uchiha Sasuke standing beyond Kakashi's shoulder.


	7. Day 330: The Relics

**Author's Note:** Just a quick note 4 anyone who's following the story, the first chapter had been incorrectly posted as a repeat of chapter 2. The real chapter 1 is now up.

**Chapter 6**

**Day 330: The Relics**

The wound in her side had finally closed, the poison that'd inhibited chakra repair finally gone. She felt no pain sitting curled by the window and let herself fall into a lazy slouch. The glass pane was cool against her forehead, signaling another crisp day outside. She watched a strong gust thread through the boughs of a tree, tugging at the branches. A leaf was dancing its way to the ground when Tsunade's chakra found its way to the edge of her senses. As the click of a door broke through the silence, she turned her head and gave a faint smile at the blond woman, "shishou."

"Sakura," she spoke, emotion veiled beneath a poker face, "I'm glad you're feeling better, gave us one hell of a scare."

Tsunade felt the itch to do something more than stand awkwardly in the room. That tiny bit of her that had loved Dan and acted childishly and openly, wanted to wrap her arms around the student she'd almost lost. The little girl she'd trained and seen to womanhood, the little girl who had been lying a hair's width from death's door on her operating table. She shook off the sentimentalities--they were meant for lonely nights with sake cups--and took a seat in the recliner opposite her student.

Sakura felt a seal lift around the room, flickering into a pleasant buzz around them.

"The scroll was destroyed?"

"Yes."

The Hokage's brow curved into a frown, "That will make things slightly more difficult. But you've confirmed what Kakashi found in his last mission, it shouldn't take much to sway the council's vote in our favor."

Sakura hummed in her throat, "We're preparing then, for war?"

"Yes, if everything goes well at the gala then Cloud will be walking home with a near-complete alliance. If that's the case, I'll be sending out a team to act as ambassadors. You'll be going."

"Of course."

The older woman reclined into the hard backing or her seat, legs crossed, arms folded in her lap, and looking every part the efficient Hokage. "You told Kakashi and Shizune something about a traitor, care to elaborate?"

Tsunade watched the green of her eyes harden, "They were waiting for us."

"They could have had intelligence on your mission."

"No," she shook her head resolutely and let her eyes drop to the floor, "he knew my name, Shishou. The second we stepped into the hotel room I had a senbon sticking out of my thigh. Just before I blacked out he laughed in my face and said my full name. How could a recon team find out the names of a faceless group of ANBU members, whose identity is a mystery to most of their own village, who were selected for the mission only a few hours before they departed. The information they had was privileged."

"There are ways for them to gather that information," she countered, not wanting to believe that someone in her village was a two-faced, backstabber.

She shook her head, "I can believe that they knew we were coming, what I don't believe is that they knew so much about us." Her gaze shifted up to Tsunade, a violent angry storm. Her next words were spit out through a snarling grimace, "my team walked innocently towards their own execution because some piece of shit betrayed us. We didn't have a shot and we were rounded up like pigs for slaughter, incarcerated, and tortured." Her hands tore into the thin material of the hospital gown.

Tsunade reached for her arm, prying her fingers from the robe, "Sakura," she tilted her face up to her, eyes uncharacteristically soft, "we'll find him." She let out a small cough and stepped away, face falling back into the stoic expression she favored, "I'm releasing you today, you'll have one week of rest and then you're back on the job." Straitening out her shirt, Tsunade moved towards the exit, steps purposeful and proud.

Sakura cleared her throat hesitantly. "shishou," the trepidation in her voice made Tsunade pause mid-stride, "has there been any news on my team?"

Tsunade's heart contracted and her face fell. She thanked Kami that she was facing the door, "We're working on it."

Sakura's breath stuck to the lining of her lungs. Her team was dead.

* * *

He hadn't seen her in nearly a year. His welcome to Konoha after months away, had been a harried Kakashi gathering him for a search and rescue.

His gaze settled on her back, evening sun filtering through her hair, dying it red. He wondered how long he could stand there before she noticed him, or if she even would.

"You really think you can sneak up on an ANBU?"

A sly smile--much less fabricated than the ones he wore years ago--curved the corners of his mouth. "At least I know you're not a total failure," he said, sitting down beside her, legs coiled for a fast getaway from her fist. But there was no eerie fake smile or tightening of her shoulders to warn him of an attack. He let himself settle comfortably into an echo of her pose, legs dangling freely from the edge of the bridge.

She turned her head slightly, "You know I was in the hospital, perilously close to the other side. No time to visit old friends?"

"You can't blame me for not visiting if I was 3,000 miles away."

Sakura scoffed, "excuses. Look it up in one of your books."

He pretended to be offended, "I've had plenty of time to figure emotions out. I got rid of the books years ago."

Sakura shot him a teasing glance, eyes sparkling with mischief, "you got rid of the porn? Now who's gonna teach you?"

Just as she had learned how to handle his crude comments years ago, he had learned how to handle hers, especially after he figured out what a personality was--and that surprisingly, he had one. He understood now, that the comment he had ready to drop from his tongue would be a cruel reminder of Naruto, so he focused on the water instead, watching the fading light dance wickedly across the river in a blaze of white-hot light.

"Is there a reason you called me here?"

Her legs kept swinging steadily to a soft tempo, somewhere between a child on a swing and a toddler on a highchair. "Yes, but I'd like to make small talk before I take advantage of you."

Sai caught her double meaning and cashed in on it, "in what way would you like to take advantage of me?"

"Many. Right here, right now."

If it had been eight years ago, he probably wouldn't have known she was joking, "I did read that kunoichi like it rough."

After her slap to the nape of his skull left an unpleasant ringing in his ears, he told himself that he would have been able to avoid it, although he didn't really believe it. She had gotten faster, considerably so.

One hand massaging his head, Sai let a frown mar his face.

Sakura reclined, arms stretched out behind her and elbows taught, palms absorbing most of her weight. "How you been?"

"I met someone during the mission." He never was one for idle conversation.

Sakura's eyebrows lifted high into her forehead, gaze settling on his curiously, "well, well, well. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Girl," he corrected.

Her brow wrinkled in thought, "weren't you into guys?"

"Not recently."

Sakura scooted away with theatrical exaggeration, pulling her right thigh from where it touched his left. "What's she like?"

"A kunoichi, prettier than you. Looks like Beautiful."

Sakura frowned at Ino's nickname, childishly sour that her own endearment was 'Hag' or 'Ugly,' depending on the mood of the giver. "It took a big-chested, ditzy blond to convert you?"

"She's not a ditz," a Cheshire grin curled his lips, "not in bed at least."

"You carnivore."

His expression fell into confusion, nose and eyes wrinkling, "what does food have to do with this?"

"That's not what I," Sakura shook her head, "nevermind." There were some colloquialisms he still had to figure out. "Is she from here?"

"No."

There was a feigned easiness to his answer that had her eyes raking his face critically. Her mind pushed the number 3,000 to the forefront and everything clicked into place. "Are you serious!"

He shook his shoulders and pulled himself up by the rail guard.

"Sai," she said, following him up, "please tell me she's not from Rain."

He rested his weight against the bridge, old wood creaking beneath him, "she was from Sound, but she's cut ties with them."

Sakura curled herself over the rail, stomach pressing into her arms, "never thought you'd go for a tragic, long-distance relationship."

Sai glanced briefly at her, the black she had worn to her team's funeral, coupled with the way she was folded in on herself, made her look even slighter. He felt something stir at how thin she was. "You look uglier than usual."

Her gaze stayed on the water, faraway and he found himself frowning at her coolness.

"Sai, I need a favor," Sakura spoke softly, but there was metal in her voice.

His black eyes found hers, narrowing in question.

"Dig up some information for me, use your ROOT contacts. Keep it quiet."

"What am I looking for?"

She gripped the rail of the bridge, "a traitor."

* * *

Towel passing through his hair, Sasuke took a look at the new ANBU in his living room. The man, he recognized from another shift, it was the woman's pastel pink hair, tied back into a neat, pleated braid that had him stopping in the middle of the hallway, towel pressed against his head.

"Sakura?"

Her green eyes sparkled beneath the shapeless mask. "Expecting someone else?"

Brushing off the surprise, he walked into the kitchen, "Aren't you supposed to be off-duty?"

She plopped down on the couch, "That's exactly why I'm here. One more week of baby-work and I'll get some real missions again."

He shot her a deadpan look before turning around to get a glass of water.

"So what are we doing today?" Her voice was bubbly, almost like she was twelve again. The ANBU beside her tilted his head in her direction, amused, or perhaps offended by her childish affections.

Sasuke, taking one long, slow drag of water, took his time to respond, observing her from the corner of his vision. She looked a bit healthier under her uniform, not as deathly skinny as she's been at the hospital.

Sakura rolled her eyes at his exaggerated 'patience.' "Nowhere," he finally answered, setting the glass down carefully, "today's my day off."

She processed his words, then came to a quick conclusion, "In that case, we'll go run some errands. I, unlike you, have things to do." Not waiting another second, she sprung from the couch and walked out the door nonchalantly without sparing him a second glance. The door swung slightly with a warm breeze, cold front long gone.

He looked at the other ANBU who stared back at him incredulously. A beat of silence later he was propping himself off the wall, following her out.

He watched calmly as their shadows disappeared beyond the threshold. _Ridiculous._ He would not chase after her like some dog. Uchiha's didn't cater to any whim but their own. Stubbornly, he sat at the counter, picking a tomato from a bowl. As he went to bite into it, he was ripped out of the stool and out the door by the scruff of his shirt. His pride jumped to the surface with the ferocity of a challenged lion. Tearing the hand off him, he turned viciously on the culprit. "What the hell are you doing!"

Sakura stood unfazed, hands on her hips, "what does it look like? Wherever you go, we go; wherever we go, you go. Simple concept, shouldn't be hard for a prodigy to understand."

His blood simmered and rushed to his ears, "You can't just," the words died in his mouth at her laughter.

"You're ears are red. Uchiha Sasuke, _blushing_!"

Sasuke sunk his teeth into the tomato, imagining it was her neck he was tearing to pieces. Juice dribbling from the corner of his lips, he snatched a thumb across his face and strode past both ANBUs powerfully, aura spiraling like a winter storm.

Sakura paid little attention to his tantrum, sorting through vegetables while the other ANBU kept to his side, mood similarly somber. The hustle of the market pulled them through the line of grocers, cleverly dragging them down one aisle of kiosks, only to circle them back up the other. Though Sakura's mask found considerable hesitation and wariness from some, others, like the butcher, seemed overly enthusiastic that an ANBU in full uniform was buying from their shop, "a damn honor to serve Konoha's finest."

When she left the butcher with a friendly wave and dropped a brown paper bag of cold cuts, vegetables, and eggs into his hands, Sasuke scowled. With an irritated curse, she swooped it back up before it hit the ground. Pushing the bag back, she held his gaze, "drop it, and I'll have you booked for misbehavior, that won't sit well with your probation, Uchiha." He carried the damn bag through the entire market, mumbling under his breath about annoying, wannabe ninjas.

Finally reaching the end of the market, they found a small herb cart, striped awnings hanging over lush, curling tendrils of leaves. The fresh scent of spicy earth had Sasuke tilting his nose to inhale. He watched Sakura kneel to inspect a bushel of basil, fingers touching the plant softly. At the presence of a woman beside her, he felt her chakra spark in a sudden burst of nervous energy. The other ANBU shot her a cursory glance. Back straight as she rose, she tried to greet the woman that paused at her side, removing her mask against protocol. The newcomer was older than Sakura, with mousy brown hair and a long, gypsy skirt which screamed "housewife." Her expression, however, was hard and it only grew stonier as Sakura extended a cautious "hello." The woman bit out a soft reply before stepping around the pink-haired girl swiftly.

Sakura turned and followed her, reaching out a hand before thinking better of it, "Yukari-san."

The woman stopped, pointedly keeping her front opposite to them, never turning her head in the slightest to meet Sakura's gaze. Needles bit through Sakura as she watched the firm stance of Akira's wife, swaying skirt juxtaposing her stillness. Sakura stepped towards her and away from the prying ears of the men behind her. "He was an important person to me too, Yukari-san. He was a good man."

Yukari pushed her feet in a circle, and set her with a murderous glare. Sakura thought her justified in her anger. When Naruto had died, she often looked at others like that, spiteful that they were alive and he wasn't, that they had returned from a mission and he hadn't. The hurt and accusation in Yukari's eyes cut her from the tip of her head to the end of her toes. They were every bit as cruel as the day of Akira's funeral. Yukari stepped closer and Sakura did nothing as her hand met the edge of her cheek violently. Her head whipped to one side, a resounding slap ringing through the market. "You don't talk about him!" her voice was soft, but poisoned. Satisfied that her message had been received, Yukari disappeared into the crowd, her baby swinging from his cradle at her breast.

Sasuke and the ANBU stayed quiet as she stood deathly still, face tilting minimally into its original position. When she turned, her features were set into a blank slate, but her eyes were glassy. Pulling the mask down, she stepped by them. They didn't say a word about the exchange or the bitter mood she dragged behind her. As they walked towards an ANBU supplier, her gaze stayed stormy and unfocused. The energy she'd shown before evaporated like water on hot, dessert stone. Her words grew clipped and utilitarian, no surplus information or phrases. Her exchange between the ANBU supplier was short and to the point. When the man noticed the darkness in her eyes, his friendly greeting became serious, "How can I help you today."

"I'd like a couple of uniforms, Miyazaki-san, if it's not too much trouble."

The man's graying hair swung to the side with his head, "Of course not! Credentials, please."

His outstretched hand was met by Sakura's arm, the sweep of his palm over her tattoo emitted a flicker of blue light: recognition. Nodding once, he pulled two neatly wrapped packages from the counter.

"I'll add it to your quota."

"Thank you, Miyazaki-san." Sakura balanced a crate of groceries on her hip and reached for the uniforms with her free hand, giving a swift bow to the tiny man as she stepped back into the sun.

* * *

The door to her townhouse falling open, Sakura turned her head slightly towards them, "wait here, please." The ANBU behind him took a perch on the guard rail of the stairs. Sasuke looked down the street, finding roads and buildings that had seen better days--and less graffiti. In fact, Sakura's house was the only building in the neighborhood that hadn't been tagged. Smart kids. He moved his head back to the building in front of him. Her house, he noticed, had a recent coat of paint over the shutters and door. There was ivy clambering up the face of the walls, giving the weathered, white-washed concrete a soft feel, the vibrant red door had a wreath hanging from a frayed ribbon. It looked like a home, the type of place a family would live in. He wondered if Naruto had been the one to paint the door, while she used her immaculate chakra control to reach the shutters. Before the thought of Naruto and her building a family here could find its way into his mind, he stepped over the welcome mat and into the bright foyer, brown bag still clutched in his arms. A letter with a logo he recognized as Dr. Yoshida's was on a small table in the corner. He noticed that she hadn't removed her shoes, but there were a pair of men's sandals sitting on the wooden floor, lined up neatly with two white slippers, one larger than the other. A man's trench coat hung from a hook on the wall, the bold flames licking up the hem too absurd for anyone but Naruto.

"I told you to wait outside."

He looked up to find her standing ahead of him, stance agitated. He shifted the bag in answer and she moved to take it from him. Sasuke followed her across the tatami matt to the hard wood of the kitchen, eyes wandering over the picture frames that lined powder blue walls. He settled on one of her and Naruto, Sakura leaning behind his seated form, hands draped over his shoulders, one eye squeezed shut as he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. They looked happy, in love. Trailing the line of pictures, he moved further into the living room, following pigment memories of them, the Rookie 9, and her ANBU team, as the sound of cabinets closing and opening echoed closely behind. He found an orange and black windbreaker tossed carelessly over a worn, white couch. His hand upset a fine coating of dust over it, when he moved to finger the collar, her voice made him pause.

"Don't touch that." He turned to look at her, but Sakura had already gone back to arranging a group of apples in a yellow bowl, eyes steadfastly downcast. To the side of her, set upside down, was an orange mug, bold, black characters spelling out "dattebayo." She hadn't moved any of his things. Everything he'd left behind was still there, left in its original place like sacred relics, or as if he'd left them there just that morning.

Sasuke took a seat in a recliner. On the coffetable before him, strewn haphazardly in true Naruto fashion, was a pack of opened correspondence, edges torn by hasty ripping and letters crinkled. A look at the date revealed four year-old postmarks. His keys were scattered over them, acting as a paperweight. A personified ramen keychain stared up at him with lifeless eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if her closet was still crowded with his clothes, or if his side of the bed was still unmade.

"How do you keep all this stuff clean?"

She snapped up from the cabinet where she'd been storing canned goods, gaze burning. He realized it wasn't the most sensitive thing he could have said, but he'd never been one to filter his thoughts.

"By cleaning."

"The jacket is dusty and so are the letters." He heard the distinct sound of metal striking wood.

"I haven't had the chance to clean this week."

His next question was slashed down by her interruption, "can you wait outside."

Sufficiently scolded, Sasuke treaded silently towards the door, passing by a frame he hadn't noticed before. There were nacre flowers carefully inlaid into the silver and the metal alternated between a polished shine or a brushed finish. It was an expensive piece, the type of frame used to hold a wedding picture. In it was a clip of a new house with a bay window and a sprawling lawn.

"He gave it to me when he proposed. A promise, you could say. That was the house he wanted to buy. It's why we were living here, to save up." she stood still before the refrigerator, voice very small, eyes glazing over.

Sasuke found himself unable to hold her stare. Silently, he ducked out the door to wait outside.

* * *

"Sakura, the kiss was incredible! Like nothing I've ever felt before. It just, you know, it was perfect!"

Sakura spared a glance at her friend, Ino's expression the equivalent of a realized woman, "looks to me like it was a lot more than a kiss."

Ino's face warmed to an uncomfortable red and the cup in her hand wavered. Sakura laughed at the absurdity of her mortification, "You've told me much worse things before, Ino! You really shouldn't be blushing like a school girl after what you did with Kiba."

She huffed, and took a sip of her coffee, shopping bag swinging from the crook of her elbow, "Well, Shika's different." Her voice fell slightly and the smile on her face was one Sakura remembered well, "I think I'm in love with him."

Sakura fingered a knickknack outside a kiosk, back turned away, "well you certainly look like it, at least you know the sex is good."

Ino's free hand came up to smack her across the back, "whatever." She dragged her into the store, heading straight for a small red dress. Pressing the coffee into Sakura's hand, she held it up in front of herself, "what do you think?"

Sakura gave her a critical gaze, biting her lower lip and jutting out her chin.

"Oh, for Kami's sake, stop playing around!"

Laughter breaking free she nodded her head. "It looks great against the color of your hair. Although once he see's you in that," she followed the dip of the neckline to where Ino's naval would be, "I think he'll be more interested in getting you out of it."

Ino burst into a giggle, and looked for her size, "that's the intention. I'd kill for another night like that. I mean it was just perfect!"

Rolling her eyes, Sakura moved to a rack with an emerald evening gown, "you've already said that, bimbo."

"Well how else would you describe it?"

Sakura fingered the pleated crepe de Chine at the bosom. She ran her hand over the soft silk of the fitted bodice, imagining Naruto's gaze burning into her. She felt his hand ghost over her waist and his lips brush against her neck, "It feels" she began, answering Ino's question, "like you're going to explode, you're toes curl, you're heart pounds, and it's the most wonderful feeling when he stares at you, when you feel his eyes following you across a room, and when he kisses you, you feel whole again."

Ino's movements paused and she stared up from the red dress. Sakura's unseeing eyes were enough to level her smile. But it only faltered momentarily as she squeezed Sakura's shoulder. Standing beside her, energy pushing her to change the subject, she rummaged for Sakura's size, then remembered how much weight the girl had lost. She pulled out a smaller dress from the rack, guessing at the fit. Holding it out to her, she appraised the outfit, "I think this will look ideal for that state dinner. She flipped the gown around, admiring the open back. "You'll look stunning. But," her mischievous grin pulled Sakura from old thoughts, "that little number is what you'll wear to go clubbing with me."

Sakura stared unbelievingly at the dress Ino was pointing to. The teal color was lovely, although the firm edge of the material meant to cling gracefully in a curving, half "S" around the crest of her breasts was a little racier than she'd dared. The fact that it plunged deep into her chest before finally meeting in a seamless merge, didn't sit well with her either. "Are you wearing the red dress?"

Ino shook her head, "Of course not, Shikamaru would kill me if I wear something that revealing without him standing by my side."

"Should you even be wearing something that revealing period? Last time I checked no man likes his girl at the receiving end of testosterone-charged stares."

Swapping her hand dismissively, Ino made a noise in the back of her throat, "puh-lease! As if anyone would be stupid enough to leer at a shinobi's girlfriend, especially when said girlfriend is a ninja herself."

Sakura followed her to the dressing room, "point taken, but still, me, the conservative one, is going to wear some slinky thing, while you, the boob-popping, club-goer, wears a demure nunnery getup?" The woman standing by opened two rooms for them and placed the dresses inside, holding back a smile, she bowed as they passed by her.

Ino's voice drifted to her from next door, "Can you make it next week?"

She nodded, using their favored word for missions when in front of civilians, "if I don't have work."

Sakura glanced at herself in the mirror, fidgeting slightly as her breasts found themselves _very_ free in the teal dress. She was reaching down to pull at the hem when the door swung open, striding in like an empress, Ino stayed her hand. "Leave it, it's supposed to be short. Now," taking her shoulders and positioning her before the mirror, Ino looked her over, "wow, you have hips, who would have known with that uniform you're always wearing." Giggling, she pushed herself in front of Sakura and fingered the material of her red dress. "We, my friend, look _deadly_. Somebody should attach a warning to us, 'men of lesser constitutions and history of heart disease, beware.'"

Sakura shoved her out the room, "conceited narcissist."

"I heard that!"

As she slipped the emerald dress over her head, a smile tugged at her lips. The strapless cut accentuated her clavicles and shoulders well, she liked the way it curved just right, giving hints of soft breasts, tapering at the waist before murmuring of hourglass hips as it flared into a dramatic fall. Naruto would have loved it. "What do you think?" she whispered to him, patting down the silk of the skirt. She couldn't hear his response, but she felt a quickening of her pulse as a draft painted goose bumps over her skin. That was enough answer for her.

"Wow." Ino's approval was an exhale turned childish squeal, "You look fabulous!"

"Don't you ever knock?"

Ino scowled and made her twist around, "Oh, you're going to break a few hearts at that dinner."

Sakura's expression felt fake, the curve of her lips stretched artificially at her cheeks. Ino, thankfully, was too busy with the gown to notice. There was only one heart she wanted to break, and it was long gone.

When Sakura exited the changing room, she found Ino already at the cashier, waiting as the woman wrapped up her purchase in delicate pink tissue paper.

Ino took the clothes from Sakura and laid them out on the glass surface gently. "This is going to look spectacular," she said, fingers busy with the emerald silk.

The attendant placed Ino's own dress into an elegant pearl bag and handed it to her with a pleasant 'thank you.'

Suddenly halting as she reached for the ribbon handles of the store's signature bag, Ino looked at Sakura's hand, "where's my coffee?"

Sakura smiled and shrugged, "that's what you get for treating me like a butler."

Her wail of protest made the cashier shrink, Sakura shared a glance with the brown-haired woman. _See what I have to deal with_. The corner of the woman's lips twitched in a secret grin.

"I really liked that drink, and it was expensive!"

Shrugging her shoulders, Sakura felt her purse shrivel as the emerald dress was rung up, "Not any more expensive than this thing. I just blew a week off my check."

"Oh it's going to get reimbursed anyhow."

"Not until they pay it back, for now, it's still my money."

"Technicalities."

"Expensive technicalities," she managed, handing the cashier most of her money.

"Well, it's money well spent."

"Is that what you'll tell yourself when Shikamaru rips that dress off you?"

Ino's stuttering gasp and glowing face had her laughing all the way out of the store.

* * *

Sasuke watched a bird flutter cautiously to the ledge, maintaining a body's length distance from the ANBU. The bird flicked a wing, dug his beak into it to groom, picking feathers with his beak. His attention shifted back to the urban landscape, well familiarized with the way the morning sun curved over the Hokage Monument and cast the village in a hazy, bright glow.

"How are the nightmares?" he heard the sound of a pen scribbling on paper.

The memory of his brother's eyes widening as his sword sunk itself deep into flesh echoed vibrantly. "Persistent."

Yoshida didn't lift his face, "Are they any better?"

"Sometimes."

"Are you lying?"

Sasuke made a guttural sound in his throat, "You wouldn't be able to tell if I was."

"You sounded like my son just now."

The subtle curve of his eyebrow was the only indication he was listening.

"He's entering that phase of 'I'm a chunnin, thus holier-than-thou'." Sasuke took note of Yoshida's expression, the way the corner of his mouth was upturned in an unabashed smile that held volumes of pride.

"My father rarely looked at me like that."

Yoshida's gaze focused in on Sasuke, "Like what?"

"With that proud, ridiculous grin."

"Well, if you ever plan on children of your own, you can give them that same smile, I'm sure you understand how much it would mean to them."

"Hn."

Yoshida rested his chin on his hand, "I'm still figuring out if that's a yes, no, or maybe."

"It's interchangeable."

"Thus the problem." He set his notes aside, "Now, back to those dreams. You said they're not worse, and sometimes their even good?"

"Yes."

"Good, that means we can avoid medication. I never like prescribing meds, their volatile things." Yoshida played with the cap of his pen, "Tell me about the good dreams."

Sasuke crossed his leg on the couch, turning back a little to watch the window. It suddenly dawned on him why that window was there, it was a distraction, a calming one. He watched the bird on the ledge switch to groom the other wing. "They're mostly memories, of before the massacre. Itachi buying me something, the day he made ANBU, when I learned the Katon no jutsu, playing with my brother, simple things."

"Sasuke," Yatai began "you mentioned in our last session that Itachi's eyes often came up in the nightmares. Can you explain?"

The easy feeling Sasuke had left as quickly as the bird he'd been watching. "The way he looked at me when he was dying, it was regretful, but grateful too. There was a moment when I felt like it was the Itachi I had known, there was no hatred or anger left in him."

"Where you angry that he looked at you like that after what he did?"

Sasuke shut his eyes, "yes, but not just angry. How could he expect me to forgive him? How could he make me feel guilty about it?" His voice was bitter, bordering on acidic.

"Sasuke, it's alright to feel resentful, just like it's alright for you to feel guilty. He killed your family, but he was your brother. I would venture to say that Itachi was unstable. The brother you knew did love you and his family, but somewhere along the line something happened to him and he become someone else and that was nobody's fault."

Sasuke wasn't sure that he believed that. There was something substantial lurking beneath the surface of his brother's gaze, something he'd be damned if he didn't uncover.


	8. Day 352: The Haunted

**Author's Note:**

1)There was a short scene added to the end of Chapter 4: The Grave, just after Sasuke talks to Kakashi.

2)This chapter goes out to my first reviewers, who've made writing this all the better!

* * *

Chapter 7

Day 352: The Haunted

Uchiha stepped through one of the double doors, ANBU guards waiting in the hall.

"You're on time."

He took her comment in silence, observing the blond with mild interest.

"I was sure you'd be late just to spite me."

Sasuke took four steps towards the large window to her right, "I'm not Kakashi."

Tsunade's brush dragged across a scroll, "small miracles."

He waited for her to continue, attention quickly dwindling as he watched Konoha from the viewpoint of its leader.

"Turn around or take a seat, Uchiha. I like talking to your face, not your ass."

Sasuke bit back a retort, turning in place, scowl vibrant against his lips.

Tsunade's head came up to watch him, assuring herself he'd heeded her request. Folding her hands over the desk, she offered him a level stare. "I have a proposition for you."

An onyx eyebrow rose slightly, an exaggeration of expression for someone like him.

Tsunade resisted the urge to drag a hand over her face and let loose a sigh. Self-touch gestures would only make him cockier, and he'd be cocky enough with the cards spread on the table.

She cleared her throat, "a powerful clan from Cloud will be visiting soon. They'll be taking back a considerable sum of money with them."

Leaning against the ledge, Sasuke decided to test her limits, "and why should I care?"

Her frustration, he concluded, was well worth it. "Because you'll be contributing the money."

He could smell blood in the water. "Really. And why should I do that."

The flash of her eyes set the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

"Because you'll find the council is appreciative of philanthropists."

Sasuke considered her for a moment, the sunlight streaming through the window washing her narrowed eyes amber. "How appreciative exactly?"

Tsunade prepared herself for the victory about to flare through his gaze, "one year off your probation."

_There it was_. The Uchiha's black eyes blazed at the offer, even if the rest of him stood as casually as a man waiting for a delivery.

"What about a break from community service?"

The desk threatened to crack under the pressure her forearms exerted, a small splintering noise cut through her anger. "This isn't up for negotiation. Get out of my office if you're just going to shit around." Her face held no compromise.

His feet were itching to walk out, to hold onto his pride, but he'd been sitting passive for too long. He stayed where he was.

Tsunade's posture slackened. "You are to have the funds ready before the week's end."

He stood from the ledge, eyes sparking. "This wouldn't happen to be a tributary, would it?"

Her expression didn't reveal anything, but she knew he'd already guessed.

"Expecting war, Hokage?"

She ignored him, shoving back a burst of angry chakra. "The ANBU guards will stick around despite the new terms. And your chakra will remain sealed unless necessary."

He couldn't help the curve of his cheek rising in a satisfied smile. "Unless necessary? Are you planning on giving me missions?"

_Fucking smartass._ Tsunade threw a scroll his way, hoping the strength behind it would knock him off his feet. It didn't, of course.

His hand snapped up with the speed only elite jounins had mastered, catching it flawlessly without the slightest twitch of strain.

"The details are in there. Shizune will take your signature on the way out. Good day Uchiha."

"You should know by now I won't sign anything until the council delivers."

"_Good day_ Uchiha."

* * *

Sakura was heading back home, the soft clouds of a transportation jutsu swirling into nothingness with the wind. Her steps carried her further away from the cemetery, where the whines of Yukari's baby had been the first sign of the woman's presence. She'd jutsued her way out of there as soon as she'd heard it, desperate to avoid another encounter with Akira's wife. She had enough spirits haunting her to add more fuel to the fire.

Lost within the darker corners of her mind, she maneuvered half-heartedly through the crowd of villagers, wondering if Ichirou's father or Hisao's sister were anywhere within the busy mass, or if they would be so willing to blame the last member of Squad Gamma. It wasn't her fault they were dead. It wasn't her fault she'd made promises she couldn't keep. It wasn't her fault she was always left behind. It wasn't her fault she was alive. Kami knew she took enough risks, most bordering on suicide. It wasn't her fault that for whatever twisted reasons, she always survived them. Sakura was beginning to wonder if the Harunos had an immortality kekkai genkai. No, she decided, it wasn't her fault_. _Just when her breath was dangerously agitated she crashed against the shoulder of a shinobi.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, moving past him before he could accept her apology. In her state she didn't register his eyes lingering for a second too long. Or analyze the chakras of four others accompanying him. Sakura certainly didn't catch his comment about her hair or see his foreign hitai-ate. The only thing she could see was the brown eyes of Yukari's baby (so much like Akira's), staring at her with a sweetness that--if his mother had anything to say about it--would never be offered to her.

"Saukura-sama!!!"

Sakura's eyes snapped up to the carrot pigtails of a jounin. The same jounin she'd told a million times not to call her 'sama'.

"Moegi," she said exasperated, "it's senpai, not sama."

The girl shook her shoulders, "it was just a term of respect, Sakura-sam…senpai." she laughed sheepishly at her own slipup, one finger coming to twirl around the end of her hair.

It brought a smile to Sakura's face, "what can I help you with Moegi?"

She pushed the toe of her sandal into the dirt, and then straightened her back, sure that Sakura-sama would never fidget or slouch in the face of adversity. Head high--and certain it was fate she stumbled across Sakura-sama in such a crowd--she wet her lips. "Well, you see, I wanted some advice, about,"

Moegi was interrupted by the object of her conversation. Konohamaru's voice blared up the alleyway, slicing through all other sounds with the power of a foghorn.

"Oy!!!!!!! Moegi!"

"Konohamaru," she finished rather lamely.

Sakura didn't miss the way her already pink cheeks burned from blush to red.

"Hello, Konohamaru."

The boy, man, she corrected herself, looked her way as if seeing her for the first time, face lighting up at the realization.

"Hey there Sakura-senpai!"

Almost as soon as he'd said it, he'd turned back to Moegi, "I was looking all over for you!," he grabbed her hand and started to drag her away, "Udon is waiting for us at the training grounds!"

Moegi sunk the heel of her foot into the ground, "Matte!" her scream and punch left him nursing a bleeding ear and a bruised forearm.

She fumed and marched back to Sakura indignant, "you can't just drag someone off whenever you feel like it!" Her face falling back into a pleasant smile, she bowed to Sakura and excused herself, "Gomennasai, Sakura-sam…senpai, my idiot teammate has an appointment to meet."

The idiot teammate's stomach growled loudly upon her statement.

"Say, Moegi, you wanna get some food?"

Moegi looked back at him incredulous, mouth falling open. "What about Udon!"

Konohamaru considered this with one hand pressed to the back of his head. His lips spread apart to reveal white teeth in a genuine, Naruto-patented grin, "we can bring him back some."

Sakura felt a memory reaching out to strangle her. She pushed back at it before it could wrap blue eyes and whisker-marked cheeks around her heart. "Would you like to pass by Ichiraku's Konohamaru, Moegi? My treat."

Konohamaru looked down on her--he was practically as tall as his uncle had been--eyes bright and wide.

It was the answer she expected, a fireworks-and-sparklers 'yes!'.

If she had been tight on ryo, Sakura would have regretted her invitation. Although Moegi and her had barely finished, Konohamaru was already waving over Teuchi for his third serving.

Moegi elbowed him, "this was an _invitation_! Be polite."

Sakura set down her chopsticks, watching Konohamaru and Moegi. Her appetite withered with a second wave of melancholy.

Noodles peaking from his mouth, Konohamaru felt Sakura's stare. He smiled at her through puckered lips and a chin dripping with Ichiraku's famous broth.

She had to turn away.

Konharamu felt his expression falter. He knew she was seeing Oyabun, not him. People often told him they were two sides of the same coin. A napkin touched the corner of his mouth, startling him. When his eyes met hers, Moegi pulled her hand away, embarrassed.

He grinned and swept a sleeve across his face. "Thanks, Moegi." Konohamaru's chaste kiss turned her ears a soft red.

"Moegi, would you like some dessert?"

Moegi's eyebrows rose in question and Sakura winked an answer.

"Uh, sure?"

"Great! Konohamaru, would you take this," she grabbed his palm and splayed it open, laying some brown coins in its center, "and get us something sweet?"

He was crestfallen at having to leave his unfinished bowl of noodles, but Moegi's stare had him rushing through the noren flaps and into the street.

"Now, what did you want to talk to me about."

Moegi's eyes lit with understanding, her mouth parting slightly in a half "O". She turned back to her empty bowl, chopsticks busy playing with stray noodles. "How did you handle your first," she paused to worry her bottom lip, "_undercover_ mission?"

The way she said 'undercover' told Sakura this was more than dressing up like a servant. "You mean seducing someone?"

Moegi nodded profusely, still not looking her way.

She offered a sympathetic glance, "You're afraid of telling Konohamaru?"

She didn't answer.

"Are we talking past tense or future tense?"

"Future."

Sakura remembered how scared she'd been on her first mission of that…nature. Her stomach had twisted itself into a sailor's knot when her target suggested they retire for the night. Naruto had been furious upon her return, livid that she'd left him in the dark.

"I think you should tell him before you go. He is your boyfriend after all," she added with a wry glance.

Moegi choked on her water, trying hard to save her lung without looking like a dying fool.

"He'll appreciate your honesty--even if he'll probably destroy something first. You'll appreciate it too, he'll be someone to talk to."

Moegi chewed on her lip thoughtfully. A gentle silence fell between them, broken when Konohamaru stumbled into the bar, hands laden with an impressive number of dorayaki. Sakura should have known not to trust him with money.

He peaked over the pile of wrapped pancakes, offering an excuse about liking the sweet bean filling.

Moegi rolled her eyes before looking her way, "thank you Sakura-sam…senpai."

Sakura reached for a dorayaki, "not a problem."

She watched them leave the bar, arguing about why they had to stop to pick up some food for Udon.

"But I have to practice rasengan!"

She heard Konoharamu's brilliant answer, "I know! We'll just give him some of the cakes!"

A loud slap, followed by a louder yelp resounded.

From across the tiny bar, she saw Iruka walking towards her, face half twisted towards the street, catching a last glimpse of Moegi and Konohamaru.

He plopped down next to her, a soft smile much like her own. "You need a drink?"

"Do fish need water?"

* * *

Sasuke wasn't expecting to see her. It was late, he was tired, and Ichiraku just happened to be nearby. He sat on a stool next to her, warily observing four empty sake containers.

"Uchiha," she acknowledged. She turned slightly to the left, spotting his ANBU entourage.

She put her head down, hiding her face within the cradle of her arm. Her other hand stayed loosely around a choko, sake sloshing as she swirled the cup from side to side.

"Are you drunk?"

She snorted, "medics don't get drunk."

Teuchi came over to him, steps hesitant and expression bitter. Sasuke noted how pronounced the lines on his face were, how gray his hair. "You've gotten older, Teuchi-san."

"You're still arrogant."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed when the man turned away from him poignantly.

"Sakura-san," he touched her arm, "is he a friend of yours."

Sakura raised her head slowly, setting Sasuke with an evaluative stare.

For a moment, he thought she would say no. She didn't disappoint. Looking towards Teuchi, she muttered, "not a friend."

Sasuke could swear he saw the old man soar, feet angling to walk around the counter and kick him out. Or try.

Sakura's next words brought him down from his high, "he's a guest."

Rigidly, Teuchi took his order, surprising him with a new menu of tsukemen.

"When did they stop selling ramen?"

She looked at him, somewhat baffled. "You've been in Konoha nearly a year and this is the first time you've come here?"

He shook his shoulders. "Naruto was the one obsessed with this place, not me."

Sakura stared at her cup, unwilling to look at the empty stool beside her, sure she'd see him there, face bright with the prospect of his favorite dish.

"Ramen was his first love," she joked quietly. The memory of his horrified face when he came back to find a change of venue pried a smile from her lips. "He screamed bloody murder when Ayame convinced her father to serve tsukemen." Sakura raised the cup to her lips, downing the sake in one go. Before the choko could touch the wooden counter, she'd poured herself another round.

"I see Tsunade has taught you well."

She glared at him. "I may not be drunk, but I'm sure everyone here would vouch that I was if punched you into the ground."

Sasuke broke his chopsticks apart with a 'hn,' picking at the bowl with the noodles before dipping them in soup, noticing there was very little broth in his bowl.

Beside him, Sakura tilted the sake container over her cup, lips pouting and forehead creasing when only two straddling drops rolled out reluctantly. Her hand shot up, "Teuchi-san! Another sake, please."

The old man wasn't too happy to comply with her request. He reached her slowly, setting the sake on the table with a frown, "Sakura-san, you know this stuff is isn't water, right?"

"Oh, come off it, Teuchi-san. I can only get drunk if I want to. Consider this my toast to Ayame's happiness!"

Sasuke tilted his head, eyes settling on her curiously.

"She's married," Sakura responded, by way of answer. "On her honeymoon, actually."

"Ah." It seemed the girl had finally gotten over her infatuation with Kakashi. Sasuke swirled the noddles through the soup mechanically. He'd missed a lot while he was gone. Revenge, he figured, was a selfish mistress.

Sakura hiccupped as she set her sake down, hand coming up to cover her mouth daintily.

"I thought you couldn't get drunk?", he baited smugly.

She shook her shoulders nonchalantly, "If I don't want to."

His eyebrow rose, "and you want to now?"

He caught the way her thumb fingered the ring on her left hand absentmindedly.

"Maybe."

The thought of a hangover, of her head pounding with the force of festival drums, sobered her mood. Sakura gripped the choko between both her hands, holding it like a teacup. She pushed it away from her with a sigh, picturing Naruto's disapproving face a she increased the chakra channeling through her system. "Maybe not."

Sasuke felt the pull of her chakra as he swallowed. "You process the alcohol."

She rested her chin on her palm, "I push it towards the liver and burn it off quickly."

He wasn't much of a medic, but even a fool would understand something like that would have drawbacks. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It screws with the liver."

"I didn't know you were suicidal."

She laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "Aren't we all," her acidic smile faded gradually, painted over with the studious expression of an analyst, "realistically, it would take decades for the effects to catch up with me and factually speaking, shinobi don't ever live that long. On average we're dead by thirty-five."

Sasuke reached for the container beyond her hand, taking the choko as well. He poured himself a round of the table sake and ignored her glare as he drank _her_ sake from _her_ cup. "Nice to know I'm a walking corpse."

She snorted, prying the bottle from his hand roughly, "he jokes. Give the kid a gold shuriken."

When Sasuke had paid for his meal--a suspiciously expensive sum, he noted--Sakura pulled him from the bar, leaving behind a few ryo within the flickering lights of Ichiraku to cover her fare.

He whipped his arm from the warmth of her hand immediately, chakra sparking at her manhandling. "Why the hell do you presume you can drag me across Konoha!"

"Because you're on probation and can't do jack about it."

"I won't be on probation much longer." The smug confidence in his voice had her briefly wondering how she ever doted on him as a child.

Sakura's head tilted, "come again?"

His hands came to rest in his pockets, back slouching in his signature devil-may-care pose. "My sentence was lessened."

If the council going easy on him after his return had made her suspicious, this made her certain. There was no way Sasuke could have gotten off with two years probation for deserting, much less _one_. She processed what she knew about the elders and the Uchiha. One was notorious for manipulating people into doing their dirty work. The other was notorious for his capability. Both wanted Itachi dead.

"You cooperated with Konoha to kill Itachi," she mused out loud.

The tightening of his frame told her he wasn't pleased with the mention of his brother. But he didn't lash out at her, or bite off his answer.

"A light sentence was part of the deal, although there were some unexpected consequences for me disappearing afterwards."

It seemed they'd come to an understanding. If he got to talk about Naruto, then she got to talk about Itachi.

"You're not as big a dumbass as I thought."

He spared her a glance, "hn."

Quiet settled over them. The emptiness of night wrapping Konoha in a silent blanket. These were the hours Sasuke preferred to venture out, when civilians were tucked safely within their homes, their stares and mutterings locked beyond closed doors.

"Hey, Sasuke," Sakura began, adding her voice to the stillness, "I'm glad you're back."

The steady footsteps of his stride didn't falter. His heart didn't clench, nor did his eyes widen. He wasn't sure if it was something she would say without the buzz of sake lingering within her veins. He wasn't even sure if he was content to have returned, or if he would stay, or if his brother's image would ever disentangle itself from his soul. But for right now--for this moment under Konoha's quiet night, far away from the cruel realities of missing-nin, lightless forests, and red eyes--he did feel, that he could agree with her.

"Ah."

* * *

He bent to secure his sandals, long, brown hair falling smoothly over the edge of his shoulders. The rays of early sunlight--the same that had woken him--flickered faintly across the floor, blinking into shadow as laundry flapped in the wind outside.

A pair of chocolate eyes watched his back, her own brown hair spread lazily around her.

"You always leave at dawn."

Neji looked at her, turning his head away quickly with a scowl. She had let the sheet twist around her waist, draping sensuously over her hips in an invitation, breasts free for him to see. He hated when she acted coy. She only made a fool of herself.

He stood and moved into the restroom. "I can't stay all morning. I have a wife now."

Tenten's face fell. _Bastard_. She turned towards the window, catching the stare her neighbor gave her from his balcony. She reached for the kunai beneath her pillow and dangled it in front of her breasts. The man disappeared behind the sliding door of his apartment.

"You didn't leave early even when you first married her," Tenten added, voice solid despite the unsteady beat of her heart. She placed the kunai on the nightstand as he answered.

"Hyuga-sama has a lot going on right now. He has me running errands."

She turned again, looking at him through bored eyes. "What's your clan up to Neji? They've been acting weird lately."

Neji was securing a tie to the end of his hair when he heard her. His hand paused at her question before quickly whipping back to work. It didn't go unnoticed by her. If anything, that hesitation only fueled her suspicions. The Hyugas were up to something.

"That's none of your business."

A bitter smile pulled the skin at her lips. "Nothing that goes on within the walls of the Hyuga compound is my business. Just as it wasn't my business when Hyuga-_sama_," she mocked, "was signing your wedding contract." Tenten pushed off the bed, letting the sheet slip to the floor. Neji frowned when he saw her walking to fix her hair in the vanity. He marched to the window and ripped the curtains shut.

"I told you to stop parading around like that."

She met his heated gaze through the vanity. "Why should I? This is my home. I'll act like a whore if I want to."

The veins in his forehead rose to the surface of his skin, "act like a whore and you'll be treated like one."

She laughed cruelly and pulled her hair into a ponytail, unveiling more skin, "you already treat me like a whore."

He pulled a robe from a chair and threw it across her shoulders.

When she did nothing as it fluttered to the floor, he gripped the doorknob to her bedroom door and slammed it shut on his way out, splintering the wood.

"Fuck you too," she muttered, looking at herself in the mirror; a woman she didn't recognize stared back.

* * *

It was one of his bad days. He knew it would be the second Yoshida said he wanted to "try something." The walk they went on had his skin crawling with suspicion. It was only when he recognized that the road they were on lead to the Uchiha District that he stopped walking. His chakra sparked, leaping and rolling angrily within the seal. When he set his eyes on Yoshida, they were bleeding crimson. Yoshida stood nervously, watching as the sharingan swirled hotly to life. He was beginning to second-guess his decision.

Sasuke took a threatening step towards him before his ANBU guards had his shaking fists wrangled behind him, one dangerously sharp katana pressing against his jugular.

"Absolutely not," he spat through his teeth, seemingly unconcerned with the metal biting into his neck. "I fucking refuse."

Yoshida hoped he would live through his next words, "let him go."

The ANBU guards looked towards him, neither heeding his request.

"Let him go, please. I'm sure the Hokage told you not to interfere with my job. You're interfering."

It was only when Sasuke's surplus chakra had exhausted itself--only when the sharingan darkened to ebony--that the katana was hesitantly removed.

Sasuke was still seething, even angrier now that his sharingan had left him bone-dry within seconds.

"We're not going inside, Sasuke. I give you my word."

"_We're_ not going anywhere. If I go back to the Uchiha district, it won't be with you. This session is over," he turned and began walking away, steps as oppressive as his aura.

Yoshida pulled at one last string, desperate. "You're letting Itachi win."

Sasuke stopped, dead in his tracks. His hand itched to move to his hip, where he'd kept a pack of kunai before they were confiscated. "You're a brave idiot to mention that man when I'm one unsteady decision away from snapping your neck."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Yoshida spoke again. "you see him at every corner. His eyes watch you tirelessly, springing up anywhere and everywhere."

Sasuke's mouth went dry. His eyes narrowed, and his heart was ripping through his chest. _Stop it._

"You can be sitting, completely at ease, when the pattern of his ocular jutsu weaves itself into the scenery."

His breath quickened, his mouth fell open to take in agitated gasps, chest rising and falling faster with every pounding beat of his heart. He felt a bead of sweat roll from his temple to his jaw, unrelated to the warm weather. _Stop it._

"You'll see him standing in the distance, only to have his silhouette dissolve once you realize it's some faceless man from Konoha."

Sasuke gripped his head, sinking his fingers into his hair, nails scratching his scalp, palms pressing against his ears. _Stop it. _His fingers curled, pulling his hair viciously.

The ANBU stood by warily, sensing danger.

"It's not just dreams anymore. You see him clearly even when you're awake."

"ENOUGH!", he roared viciously, swinging a shuriken he'd pilfered from one of the ANBU.

It spiraled towards Yoshida, sinking into the earth two inches from his feet.

The stunt cost him a kick to his stomach and a rough shove to his knees, but he didn't care. Chest still heaving, lips twisted into a snarl, he shoved his head back against the hand pushing at his skull, setting Yoshida with a black glare, "that was a warning. Don't take it lightly, Yoshida."

Holding his glasses with one hand, Yoshida pulled the shuriken from the dirt, handing it to the man beside him.

"Let him go," he told the other ANBU.

The masked man shook his head, "no."

Expelling a tired breath Yoshida looked towards Sasuke. "I suppose we'll end it here for today."

* * *

The shadowed outline of the kunoichi blended well with the forest, but he could see her clearly, down to the Rain emblem etched into her hitai-ate.

"You're late," she scolded.

He ignored her, biting back his distaste. The scroll in his hand flew to her in a graceful arch, her arm shooting out to catch it.

"There's your information. The second payment will be made within four days."

She looked at the man's pale eyes, bright despite the darkness.

"Kobayashi will be in touch," she said, disappearing with a flicker of light.

From the cover of a large, decaying leaf, a spider, black as ink, watched carefully as Hyuga Neji made his way back to Konoha.

* * *

Sasuke stared at the thick exterior walls of the Uchiha District, moonlight turning them a ghastly grey.

_"You're letting Itachi win."_

Yoshida's words almost made him laugh. Itachi had already won. He won the day he murdered his family and again on the day when he let Sasuke kill him. He took to his grave whatever was left of his younger brother.

Sasuke paused before the broad entrance, his eyes coming to stare at a remnant of yellow tape still stuck to the wooden frame. He waited, waited for his feet to move, to carry him beyond the threshold of the gate. But his muscles didn't contract, they didn't pull at bones or flex joints. He stayed static, gaze fixed on the dark horizon of the District's main avenue. A slow breeze rose from the ground like steam lifting from a geyser, wind twisting through the street before him, whipping into a gale that crashed against him with the force of waves breaking against rock. It jerked his clothes, threw a spiral of crisp leaves at him, and threaded through the black of his hair, yanking it up and back. His eyes stung, narrowing against the assault. It died as quickly as it was born, settling into a humid blanket of heavy air. When his eyes peeled open, they were greeted by the outline of his brother standing on the road ahead. His eyebrows shot upwards, a ragged gasp ripping from his chest.

Itachi took a step forward, sharingan glowing.

The pad of Sasuke's foot sunk into the ground behind him, matching Itachi's move with a backwards step as his breath froze within him, sticking to the inside of his lungs.

His brother continued onward, Sasuke meeting his every footfall in the opposite direction.

"I-Itachi." The name fell from his lips in a dead whisper.

The ANBU watching him from a rooftop stood by cautiously, bodies leaning forward, trying to discern what had the Uchiha's chakra spiking in a nervous chaos of energy.

_You're dead._

_I killed you._

_You're not real._

"You're not real." Sasuke's back hit the wall of a building. His arms dug into the stonework, shaking as easily as his breath.

He sunk to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as the edge of Itachi's feet came into view, gravel crunching beneath them.

"Sasuke?"

His hand shot out, wrapping around Itachi's neck in a painful grip. The choked gasp only lent him more power.

Fingers pried his hand off, a female voice calling his name. "Sasuke!"

He looked up, starring into the green--not red--eyes of Sakura.

She held his arm away from her neck, eyes wide and staring at him.

Sasuke looked at her, realization dawning. _Shit._

He gathered himself, reclaiming his hand before gracefully lifting off the floor, drowning out the whispered accusation that he'd tried to kill her. "What are you doing here?"

Her mouth hung open slightly, listening as he forced his respiration to even out, settling from the heaving gasps she'd seen seconds ago. "I was walking, until you decided to strangle me."

He ignored her and felt for the chakras of the ANBU. "Why aren't my guards trying to whip me for lashing out at you?"

"I told them to stand down."

His gaze found hers. Sakura reached a hand to his shoulder. He flinched away before her fingers could graze him.

"You alright?"

Sasuke moved past her, still feeling the beating of his heart hammering wildly against a rib, "I'm fine."

She watched his back, the dim moonlight triggering an old memory, a time when she had seen him walking away from her in this same lighting, the same Uchiha crest glaring at her from the collar of his shirt.

"They're called sensory hallucinations, " she said softly.

Sasuke paused, head tilting slightly in her direction.

"I used to get them too, after Naruto died." She didn't mention that sometimes she still did.

He turned fully, coming face to face with her, "do they go away." There was no intonation in his voice to indicate a question. It was said with the equal levelness he favored.

Sakura plodded over to him, "well, unless you're turning into a schizophrenic, then yes, they will go away."

"How comforting."

"You should tell Yoshida. He can give you something to help."

Sasuke set a steady pace away from the Uchiha District, "I'm sure he knows."

"It is his job. The man's astute as hell."

He listened to the hum of her voice and the crunch of gravel underfoot, locking Itachi away within the deepest canyons of his mind. The glow of chakra had him staring from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he uttered in response to the hand she wrapped around her neck, erasing what he'd done.

Her shoulders rose and fell in a dismissive shake. "I've had worse."

"Come on, I want to show you something."

This time, when the heat of her hand gripped his, he didn't pull away. It was strange for a man who'd rarely been touched to have his hand held. He found that, if he pushed beyond the unfamiliarity and the texture of foreign skin, it was bearable. His pride had never liked being led--he was a leader, not a follower--but he figured he owed her tonight.

"You see that house there?" He followed the line of her outstretched finger, finding a modest home with light still glowing from the downstairs window.

"That's where Tanaka Chiaki lives. Do you remember her?"

The name brought nothing with it. "No."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Of course not." Sighing, she crossed her arms. "You saved her life when we were genin. She's twenty-six now, married, and expecting her second child."

His blank stare left much to be desired. "Don't you get it? You gave her a second chance. You saved her life and by doing so made it possible for two more lives to come about. That household and all the happy memories its seen are, in part, thanks to you."

His eyes found hers, "why are you telling me this?"

Sakura looked away from him, watching the window, where the silhouette of a pregnant woman could be seen moving by.

"Because knowing that someone's benefited from me being alive makes it easier."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Some Cultural References (there were a few this time):

-Matte: wait

-Ryo: a type of currency no longer used in Japan

-Oyabun: What Konohamaru's always calling Naruto. Could be

taken to mean "boss."

-Noren: short curtains

-Dorayaki: a traditional Japanese dessert; pancakes filled

with sweet, red bean paste


	9. Day 360: The Tributary, Part I

**IMPORTANT Author's Note: **

As unprofessional as this is, I've made some major edits to chapter 8, The Tributary. Why, you might ask? Because after having revisited that chapter, it's come to my attention that the events between Ino, Sakura and the Takinagas, is unnecessary, at least in the author's opinion (this is, of course, a matter of opinion). Some of you might remember that in this chapter Sakura and Ino are asked by Tsunade to persuade the Takinagas by any means necessary to support the passing of a treaty between Cloud and Konoha in Cloud's council. It seemed out of place for Tsunade to order Ino and Sakura to personally secure the Takinagas vote when the Takinagas were already amply motivated to help the treaty pass (what with the favorable trade agreements and Cloud's necessity for a strong ally against Akatsuki). As such, it seemed more in-line with the story to do away with that part of the Tributary mission. For those of you who wish to reread/know about the changes, here is a list of the altered/cut scenes. For those of you who want a summary of the changes rather than having to go back and reread, you'll find them below. I apologize for this inconvenience, but since House of Cards is a living document, changes sometimes result.

**Summary of changes made to The Tributary, Pt.1:**

Basically, Sakura is never given a mission to 'seduce' Takinaga; she's only asked to treat him cordially, act like a guide and escort him to the gala (and casually put in a good word for Konoha). Tsunade figures that the treaty itself, already highly beneficial to Cloud and personally beneficial to Takinaga is more than enough incentive for him to sponsor an alliance. Takinaga, however, takes more of a liking to Ino than to Sakura and asks her to the gala when her family hands over the tributary. Kenta, in turn, tries to woo Sakura, only this time, she's a bit more receptive and feels guilty for what she considers a betrayal of Naruto.

**Scenes that were changed, The Tributary, Pt. 1:**

1. Scene with Sakura and Tsunade, where Tsunade assigns Sakura and her team the mission to Cloud (altered to eliminate old mission and set up Tsunade's request)

2. Scene with Ino and Shikamaru (only marginally altered to eliminate mentions of the old mission, no major change)

3. The gala scenes (particularly any interaction between Sakura, Kenta, Ino, and Tomi Takinaga)

4. Scene when Sakura arrives home after the gala and finds a worried Kakashi acting like a curfew-conscious guard (eliminates mention of old mission while showing us a repentant Sakura who feels guilty for enjoying her time with Kenta).

**Original Author's Note:**

1) It's very likely that when the next chapter is posted the rating will change to M. Although not because there will be anything explicit or graphic (so all of you T readers, relax). The change is just to expand the story's audience.

2) To answer one of the questions posed in a review, I may (or may not) be hinting that there is more to Itachi's massacre of the Uchiha than meets the eye. But I don't want to spoil it, so be patient, all will be revealed (eventually).

3) Again, this chapter goes out to my reviewers!

* * *

(The Updated Chapter)

**Chapter 8**

**Day 360: The Tributary, Part I**

The sound of the door clicking open had Tsunade's head moving to observe the newcomer. Captain Hirosaki stepped into the room, her team following behind with masks respectfully hanging at their sides. She observed the guarded distance between Sakura and the others. It would be a while before that gap closed.

Turning back to her work, Tsunade pointed at the scrolls at the edge of her desk, lined neatly with a patience that could only belong to Shizune. "Those are the mission briefs."

From her peripheral, she watched each scroll disappear.

Not lifting her head, Tsunade signed her name with a flourish of ink characters. Setting her brush down beside the letter, she pressed her back into her chair, meeting their gaze.

"Recently we entered negotiations with Cloud in hopes of establishing an alliance. Cloud's council will be voting on it while you're there. Your objective is to deliver Konoha's formal request along with a tributary."

Tsunade crossed her hands on her lap, "since the Raikage's brother disappeared, our dealings have been strained. Your behavior must be humble and cordial, diplomatic and fitting of an ambassador. You will act discreetly, and refrain from investigating or creating any sort of suspicion. I will not tolerate failure."

Their stances offered no protest, postures straight with obedience.

"Hatake Kakashi will be going with you, and possibly an additional shinobi. You'll depart the day after the gala. Be ready to escort our guests and the tributary." She picked up her brush and focused on her desk, ignoring squad Delta. At the sound of footsteps her voice rang out, "not you, Sakura."

She paused halfway to the exit, hair swinging with momentum. Her teammates faltered momentarily before brushing past her. Sakura turned towards Tsunade, question in her eyes.

"I have a request."

"Of course, shishou."

Tsunade pointed to the chair before her desk, Sakura accepted the invitation. "Takinaga," she finally began, clearing her throat, "is Cloud's most powerful clan, economically at least, led by Takinaga Tomi. He's a middle aged man with lots of money, ties to the Raikage, and a taste for women. His influence over the council's decision and his own vote can make or break us."

Hearing the comment about women gave Sakura a half formulized understanding of Tsunade's request. She wasn't surprised at what Tsunade said next.

"We need to sway his vote; get him to guarantee the alliance. I'm certain he's more than convinced by our generous offer, but nevertheless, I'd like to keep him appeased. While he's here, I'd like you to act as his escort. Attend to him at the gala, lead him around Konoha, play up his ego." Tsunade paused to lift her arms to her face, resting her chin on the bridge of her hands. "This isn't an official mission, and you may act in accordance with your own wishes so long as you remain cordial. This is of course, all speculation, it all depends on Takinaga, but I have confidence you'll catch his eye."

Sakura nodded, crossing one knee over the other. "What can you tell me about him?"

The Hokage kept her voice clear, "He's 52, married, has six children, and isn't known for his compassion. He's cold, calculating, and doesn't really care for fidelity."

She managed a smile, "is he related to Sasuke?"

Tsunade pushed a small breath through her nose, chest collapsing as the quiet _huff_ left her lungs. "Except for the promiscuity. Sometimes I wonder if that boy's still a virgin."

Tsunade took a deep, silent breath, and the light mood they had fostered dissipated with the ease of a candle bowing to the wind. She tapped her fingernails against the desk, thinking aloud, "With war on the horizon it's imperative that we secure this alliance. We'll suffer without it."

Silence filled the room as Sakura stared at her lap, fingers interlaced, mind whirling with grim statistics and numbers from past wars.

"We won't let you down, shishou."

* * *

Sasuke had refused to speak during the entire session. If it weren't a requisite for his pardon, he most certainly wouldn't have come.

Yoshida pulled a weary hand through his hair, repositioning his glasses in that Kabuto-like fashion Sasuke hated.

"I'm sorry."

Sasuke didn't look at him. His gaze stayed on the window, watching the world outside.

"Here," Yoshida said, pitching a container his way.

As expected, the Uchiha's hand whipped out to catch it, head not even turning. The coolness of glass and the rattle of pills told him what he was holding.

"Take one daily, in the mornings; preferably with some food to settle the stomach."

Sasuke brought the bottle to his face, reading through a complicated name before catching sight of the low dosage, "it's for civilians."

"Yes," Yoshida began, picking his words cautiously, "until your chakra is released, it should be fine. It's to help with the hallucinations."

Sasuke stood from his seat, moving towards the door without a word.

Behind him, Yoshida placed his notes-empty from the muted session-on his desk. "Sasuke,"

"Don't address me so familiarly."

Yoshida's expression faltered only momentarily, "My apologies, Uchiha-san." He cleared his throat, "I've spoken with the Hokage,"

Sasuke's blood boiled at the thought of what he'd told her.

Yoshida didn't see the way his grip tightened over the doorknob on the door, but he did see the rigidness of Sasuke's back.

"It's nothing like what you're thinking, I assure you," he rectified quickly. But it was a poor choice of words.

Sasuke's face turned towards him, black eyes alight with anger, a frown marring his lips "and what, if you'll enlighten me, am I thinking? You seem to have a knack for guessing."

Without taking time to consider his criticisms, Yoshida continued, "I asked her that you be allowed to enter the Uchiha District unaccompanied; whenever you see fit."

The slight, nearly imperceptible, shift of expression in his eyes was the only indication of surprise.

"She agreed."

Sasuke waited for him to continue, still refusing to fully face him.

Hands moving in a slight gesture, Yoshida added hesitantly, "there are, some conditions, I'm afraid. Should your escorts feel any significant chakra disturbance, such as what it would take to activate the sharingan, they would follow immediately. But otherwise, it would just be you."

"Is this your peace offering?"

A small, tentative smile appeared on Yoshida's face, "I suppose it is."

Sasuke pushed the door open, stepping out of the office with silent movements. It was still too early to forgive Yoshida's misstep, but at least he no longer wanted to disembowel him quite as viciously as he did before.

* * *

Shikamaru was watching her from the doorframe, hands crossed at his chest and spine pressing into the wood. She was standing in front of her dressing mirror, trying to pull the zipper the rest of the way.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to help me?"

_You wouldn't need help if it wasn't sticking to your ass like a second skin. _He walked to her slowly, gripping the sides of the dress roughly.

"Shikamaru!"

He ignored her complaint and jarred the zipper to a close. Shikamaru pulled at the material over her lower back, trying to bring the black cloth up from where the cut settled dangerously low.

Ino's hand latched onto his and she pulled it away as she turned to look at him angrily, "What the hell's the matter with you? You've been a fucking prick to me the entire day!"

He scoffed and moved to lie on the bed; too troublesome.

"Shikamaru, look at me."

Ino waited impatiently, temper rising as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

"You know I have to do this."

He spared her a glance, catching how her breasts were packaged tightly within the gown. He was going to burn that dress the first chance he got.

"There are plenty of Kunoichi in Konoha."

She moved to a dresser, reaching for a diamond set of earrings. He could see the muscles in her back shimmer beneath smooth skin. Skin that was exposed for the pleasure and touch of another man.

"He invited me, not another kunoichi," she said, securing the necklace around her neck. "Besides, it's just some wining and dining, a little flirting here and there."

Shikamaru brought his gaze back to the ceiling. _That's plenty_. The hand that was wrapped behind his head sunk into his hair.

He could feel her eyes on him, burning. "You're worrying for nothing, I've had much worse orders and it never bothered you then."

It did bother him, but he wouldn't risk sounding like a jealous fool. "You weren't my girlfriend then."

He saw the edge of her head float into the closet. "You're not some civilian, Shikamaru. You should understand this is normal. Just like I'll have to suck it up if you ever have to do the same."

The sound of boxes shifting drifted to him, tissue paper crinkling as she pulled out a pair of shoes. "Sakura was going to handle him," he heard her voice mix with the sounds of her search, "but when my clan presented Sasuke's tributary at the tea ceremony, he took interest in me."

"Whatever."

The muted _thump_ of heels padding over tatami mat preceded her appearance. She hovered over him, "I don't have a choice, Shika, the Hokage expects me to."

He pushed out of the bed. "You're not ANBU, you have leeway with your missions."

Ino's chakra flared slightly. "You know damn well it's a dishonor to refuse a mission, to leave it up for someone else. And this isn't even a mission!" she added with exasperation, throwing her hands up.

_You should have left it up for someone else!_

"I'll be perfectly fine, and we're only traveling to Cloud, not engaging Akatsuki! Would you have preferred Sakura handle Takinaga when she doesn't have to?"

"YES!"

A silence followed his outburst, the air all the quieter after his voice had claimed every corner of the room.

Ino stared at him, eyes hard. "She considers you a friend."

Shikamaru wasn't budging on this. "Out of everyone, Sakura would understand damn well why I would choose her before you."

"It's a date, Shika, not a one-night stand. You're being so fucking selfish, and over nothing!"

He took an angry step away from her, feet slamming over the floor. "Well sue me for fucking wanting to monopolize the woman I love!"

Ino was about to yell back at him for being a jealous prick when they both registered what he'd said.

Shikamaru seemed to deflate at having voiced something so personal and Ino's anger boiled into nothing. She walked to him slowly and stood hesitantly, a two-foot distance between them.

"Did you mean that?"

He looked at the ground. _Troublesome. Damn Troublesome_. "Yes."

Arms came up around him and he waited a moment before returning the gesture. Her breath next to his ear sent blood racing through him, but it was what she said-so softly, he nearly missed it-that had his heart pounding.

"I love you too."

* * *

Ino observed her target and cursed, using language antonymous to floor-length gowns and gold-leaf ceilings. Out of all the girls to flirt with-which was quite rude, considering she was his date-he had picked a _civilian_. But not just any civilian, the soft curls of the woman laughing hesitantly beside Takinage Tomi and his son were the very same chestnut red of ANBU's director. Ino's gaze shifted nervously to Sakura's boss and the stony expression on his face. He gave her a look that only fathers (and powerful men with careers at their mercy) could manage.

"I'll take care of the boy. You focus on Tomi." Sakura walked right past her, dresses brushing. The tiny spike of chakra from her neck drew Ino's attention to the base of her skull. Once she saw that the clasp of her necklace had been left open, Ino understood the message.

Her friend reached Ami with measured steps, looping a hand through her arm and plastering a smile on her face, trying hard not to jar the necklace; not yet. "Ami-chan! Let the gentlemen breathe!"

The young woman laughed softly, her answer to a situation she was sure was not supposed to be happening.

Sakura dipped into a bow, "I'm very sorry if she's been bothering you, Takinaga-sama."

As planned, the necklace slipped from her neck like silk. It landed harshly on the marble floor. A tiny gasp left her lips as she reached for the expensive piece.

Takinaga's son plucked it before her. Lured by the faint blue of the stone, he turned it over in his hand, "this is a Cloud diamond."

Sakura feigned a flattered flush, stimulating blood with her chakra, looking towards the youngest of the two, "of course. Cloud has some of the best sky diamonds in the world."

It was passed back to her as the eldest Takinaga spoke, "indeed we do. It's a lovely piece. You should take better care of it, Mrs…"

She extended a hand, "Ms. I'm not married."

Instead of Tomi shaking it, Kenta pressed a kiss to the outside of her fingers, "not by his choice, I'm sure."

The adrenaline churning through her veins didn't give her time to dwell on the truth of his statement.

Ino watched Kenta's lips linger against Sakura's hand and moved towards them. She was positive the news of Kenta's attentiveness had already been carried back to the Hokage.

"Sakura! I've been looking all over for you!" There was a cheerfulness in her voice that hid her nerves well.

Tomi's eyes kindled with interest upon her arrival, admiring the fit of the Yamanaka woman's dress as his son spoke.

"So that's the mystery girl's name. It's more fitting than what I had taken to calling you."

Sakura set her gaze on Kenta, "and what would that be, Takinaga-sama?"

"I don't think you'll appreciate the name, so I'll tell you when I came up with it instead."

His wry grin had her swallowing down bile. _Jerk._

"You crashed into me a few days ago in the market square, you're hair," he paused, a devious light entering his eyes, "inspired my imagination."

Sakura laughed faintly, mustering the strength to flirt, "I'll take your deviant attentions as a compliment."

Ino turned towards Sakura, sweeping a fabricated gaze of appreciation over Tomi slyly. He locked stares with her briefly, dark yearning lurking beneath black pupils. She matched it with ease, pleased when his mouth twitched in a secret sneer. "I'm dying for a dance, aren't you Sakura?"

Tomi didn't give her the opportunity to answer. "I'd be glad to offer one."

Ino slowed her gait as they headed towards the center of the room, the delay allowing for his hand to graze the skin at her back.

"Pardon," he said, nearly removing his hand in an attempt to retain appearances.

"That's fine," she said, sweeping her hair to her shoulder.

Ino drew his hand slowly to the back edge of her hip, granting him uninterrupted contact with her skin, "touch is part of the dance. Wouldn't you agree, Takinaga-sama?"

His hand only strayed lower.

Kenta looked away from his father, "perhaps you'd like a dance as well?", he turned to Sakura, hoping for a pretty distraction.

She took his outstretched hand, glancing as ANBU's director escorted his daughter through a door, "of course."

* * *

Sasuke's ANBU escorts were driving him insane. They were a pair of bubbly, hormonal-driven teens, that according to Tsunade, would look more like friends than guards, _"since we can't have Cloud thinking you're a criminal."_ It was her way of 'discreetly' reintroducing the Uchiha clan into polite society. That, and he had to present two priceless antiques to Cloud's guests.

"Wow! Check the twins on that one!" the brat squawked, awkward pubescent voice cracking on a high note. His partner, red hair curling as he snapped his head to ogle the curves of a blue-clad woman, whistled softly. At least they had the sense for discretion.

Yuuto screeched when the woman's face angled towards them, "that's my sister!"

Daiki crinkled his eyes, "oh, it is Ami-chan!"

"Kami forgive me!", Yuuto pleaded, hands scratching at his eyelids. "I think I'm gonna throw up."

His friend smacked him in the elbow, "you didn't know. It's not sin if it was a mistake."

"Who the hell is that laughing with her! Fucking bastard's touching my sister!"

Sasuke glanced dully at the man flirting with the curvaceous relative. He recognized them as the Takinagas.

Grabbing a hold of Yuuto's shoulders before he could sprint away, Daiki pulled him back, "hey, we're on duty here! And relax, your dad's sent out the guards. See the femme fatales heading her way?"

"I do," Yuuto said, forgetting about his sister as his hormones locked onto new targets.

"Oh, no-no-no, no! Now that's a sight!" Daiki actually had the audacity to drape his arm around him. Sasuke snarled and shoved him off, only to be pushed by Yuuto in the girl's direction. He refused to look beyond the hem of her gown.

Yuuto let a breathy sigh past his lips, "I think I'm in love!"

Sasuke felt a vein in his forehead twitch, mouth permanently etched into a scowl. It wasn't when Yuuto said something about a blond, but rather when Daiki muttered a comment about pink hair that his eyes-casually-snapped up to the woman's face. He got a peak of a small waist, round breasts, glossy, pink lips, flushed cheeks, and kohl-lined lids. If possible, Sakura's eyes were greener, emphasized by the shade of her gown and the light of the lamp beside her. He caught sight of her ANBU tattoo, dark against her skin and made even more prominent by the cut of her dress. It was a striking contrast: this tiny girl with emerald earrings and an ANBU tattoo spiraling around her arm. When she turned her back, he found himself staring at an expanse of creamy skin, at the faint scars of her profession, at the supple line of her spine that drew his eyes to the swell of her hips. She was attractive, beautiful even; it was a revelation he didn't readily accept. He told himself she was actually too thin and rather bony, too angular and athletic.

"I could make sweet music with her." Yuuto murmered, apparently not sharing his line of thought. Sasuke swallowed back the urge to pummel him, opting instead to watch as his ex-teammate was led through a dance.

* * *

Kakashi held his breath when he caught sight of Sakura. She was radiant, skin glowing, eyes brought out by smoky kohl, emerald earrings dripping against her jaw, hair tucked into an elegant twist and bangs swept diagonally across her brow. He noticed that he wasn't the only one staring. Other men-including Takinaga's son-were stealing glances. Uchiha Sasuke's gaze had been stuck on her more than once that night; the intensity of it different from his own. There was shock, perhaps at finding himself interested, but well hidden beneath Sasuke's aloofness and fledgling attraction, was a spark of what looked strikingly similar to desire. Kakashi found himself striding up to Sakura, hoping to buffer wandering eyes.

"Kakashi," she greeted.

He smiled and tucked a hand into his pocket, "you look stunning."

The compliment had her beaming, "you look handsome yourself, especially now that I can see your face."

They watched the Hokage greet a dignitary, "don't get too attached, it's a fleeting change."

Her next question had him shrugging.

"Why do you cover it?"

"I don't like revealing too much about myself."

She shot him a cursory glance, "ever the mystery."

"You seem to be the mystery tonight, actually. You have quite a few admirers guessing."

He didn't miss the way her eyes skipped over the Takinagas, "I've noticed."

A waiter, dressed traditionally in a plain hakama passed by with a glass-laden tray. Kakashi called him over, plucking a drink for himself and handing a glass to her.

She took a small sip and raised a thin seal over them, her lips motionless as she spoke, "negotiations seem to be going well."

Inclining his head, he brought the cup to his mouth, "if everything goes smoothly, well have an ally yet."

He felt the seal simmer discreetly into nothing as Takinaga's guards passed by them. When only the tip of their hats could be seen through the crowd, he felt it flicker to life again.

"Kakashi, we'll fall without this alliance, won't we?"

Eight somber beats of silence passed before he answered, "if we don't, we'll fall after the war." Kakashi wet his lips, "This is a decisive step for us." The words struck a chord within her.

_The door to the powder room fell open. Through the mirror, she caught Ino's reflection staring at her; she strode up to the vanity and fished out a compact. _

"_Looks like you've caught Kenta's eye." _

_Sakura scoffed, fixing her hair. "He's an ass."_

_With a wicked grin, Ino added, "but a young, hot ass. Enjoy it while you can, before you find yourself a jealous boyfriend."_

"_Ino!" she chastised, "poor Shika." _

"_Oh, hush, I love Shika, no need to worry, especially not over Takina, Sr." A pause in which she reapplied her lipstick, "The Hokage wants you to focus on Kenta, the same rules apply." _

_Sakura forced a laugh, "Bet you a double-shot iced coffee that I'll have him whipped by the end of the dinner."_

_With competitive rivalry, Ino accepted, "you're on." _

They're really pulling out all the stops on this one, Sakura thought. "Their vote is key," she whispered, well aware that Konoha could not afford to loose this alliance.

Kakashi hummed, distracted, watching the man over the edge of his glass. He was tall, with the dark hair and lean frame of the Eternal Waterfall Clan. The straight angle of his back and the tilt of his head made one thing poignantly clear: this was the type of man who got his way.

"He's a loose screw."

"More so than the Raikage?" Kakashi mused, observing as Takinaga's son-strikingly similar in appearance to his father-kissed the outstretched hand of a blushing girl, eyes locking themselves on Sakura as he did. Kakashi moved in front of his student, shielding her from the man's line of vision. The interest in his eyes had the copy-nin's hackles bristling. "Sakura," he warned, "I suggest you stay away from them."

The way her gaze softened, as if she knew something he didn't, didn't sit well with Kakashi's stomach. The question he had for her died before it was born, buried on the edge of his tongue. Walking towards them was Tsunade, both Takinagas at her side, two guards discreetly following through the crowd.

"Sakura," she began, "do you have the key to my desk? I need to pick up some scrolls."

Sakura bowed formally, "of course, Lady Hokage."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at their retreating backs. Tsunade never left her office without the skeleton key tucked within the folds of her robes, red silk chord wrapped around her wrist. Of two things he was sure: that he saw red peeking from the edge of the Hokage's sleeve, and that Sakura was playing the flirt. He sighed; he really wished Sakura had remained a twelve year-old, so much easier to handle.

* * *

Sakura pushed the double-doors open, bowing lowly as she let Tsunade pass into the spacious room, followed by the Takinagas, Ino, and Sasuke.

As they settled around a short table prepared for the occasion, soft, silk cushions softening the floor beneath their knees, Sakura arranged the heavy, cream scrolls before Tsunade, bowing before she moved to sit.

Two women, dressed in plain, but elegant kimonos, moved in from an attendant's entrance, bringing the polished wooden box of a tea service with them. The bone china cups, emblazoned with Konoha's seal, were set before them.

"Sakura, would you do the honors?"

There was no outward hesitance or surprise as she accepted graciously, "of course, Lady Hokage."

Beneath her cool exterior, Sakura could only think of not shaking herself to pieces. She felt the silence of the room press in on her as she whisked green tea in a fine bowl. The stares of those around her were emphasized by the whirling stir of wood on porcelain.

Sasuke watched carefully as she bowed to each person, pouring delicately into their cup. It wasn't shocking that a kunoichi could serve tea so skillfully. It wouldn't even shock him if she could dance with the practiced ease of a geisha. These were specialties specific to her career. What did surprise him was the way the gaze of the youngest Takinaga followed her movements, the way his eyes focused intently on her figure as she bowed to him.

Sakura felt his eyes on her. Not Kenta's (those had been raking continuously), Sasuke's. She peeked at him subtly, catching sight of black irises that matched his haori, blending seamlessly with his pupils.

"Thank you, Sakura."

She bowed from her seat, "my pleasure, Lady Hokage," expelling a noiseless sigh after the tea was successfully, and flawlessly poured. Sakura relaxed-as much as a kunoichi could relax-when compliments were given for the flavor.

"It is an honor to have the Takinagas of Cloud as our guests," Tsunade began, "in appreciation of Cloud's support, Konoha and the Uchiha Clan would like to extend a gift to the Raikage. Would you consent to deliver our humble offering?"

Sasuke had a difficult time keeping a scoff from breaking through the prison of his mouth. Humble his ass. This tributary had cost him nearly a sixth of his family's accounts.

Tomi smiled coldly, "after Yamanaka-sama's tribute? It's almost abusive of us to accept."

Sakura had known Tsunade long enough to tell that the pleasantness on her face was costing her. If there was one thing her shishou hated, it was the scripted falsity of protocol.

"It is our duty as your hosts and as the initiators of this treaty between our two lands."

Tsunade lifted her hand in a discreet signal, summoning the two women who brought them tea. Each carried a silk-wrapped sword, nestled across the cradle of their forearms.

They kneeled before Sasuke humbly. He watched distantly, picking at the sword closest to him. Tsunade's stare burned into him, a silent warning against his attitude.

Lifting his eyes to the eldest Takinaga's, he offered the sword. His studies as a child made it easy for him to recite the appropriate words, "please accept this modest offering on behalf of my village and clan."

Takinaga took the sword with a shallow bow-almost insulting in it's brevity.

The slight did not go unnoticed. Neither by Sasuke, nor the others.

Controlling himself, he repeated the gesture with the next sword.

"I'd never thought the infamous Uchiha clan,"

Tsunade felt her eyes widen, sure that whatever came next would be a dangerous insult. She observed Sasuke's posture readying itself for an attack.

"Would ever present me with anything. I'd had thought them extinct by now."

Sasuke's eyes flickered, black shooting through with crimson like lightening exploding through the night. He stiffened, muscles coiling, ready to leap across the table and slit Takinaga's throat with the very sword he held.

Sakura's hand, resting demurely on her lap, hidden from sight, shot out to encase Sasuke's. She squeezed his palm with strength she borrowed from her reserves, _please, pleeease don't do anything stupid._

Crushing her hand in return, he managed to stifle the sharp spike of chakra and loosen his frame, face settling into the blank slate he preferred.

Sakura's expression hadn't shown signs of a grimace when he'd pressed so hard on her fingers she'd thought they'd snap. But now, as he released her hand, she had to take a sip of tea to hide a wince while she flexed her knuckles.

Ino cleared her throat softly, "those swords belonged to Cloud's first Raikage. We thought you would appreciate the return of your national heritage."

Her smile drew Takinaga's gaze away from Sasuke's heated stare.

Takinaga unwrapped the red silk and ran his finger languidly along the edge of the gleaming metal appraisingly. "It is a meaningful gift. The Raikage will be grateful."

Tsunade pushed one of the scrolls towards Tomi, "These are the conditions for the trade routes and materials we're willing to share with Cloud. You should note, Takinaga-sama, that they'd be very beneficial to your clan's business."

He reached for the elegant scroll, "I'm aware."

* * *

Sakura knew he would come, especially after Tsunade had put her in the spotlight. Sure enough she felt his chakra spark behind her. The balcony she chose was quiet, with only the distant lights and buzz of the dinner to interrupt. She was leaning against the stone ledge, arms poised at her sides on the banister, back straight and head tilted towards the stars. The picture she painted, she was positive, was sensual enough to lure him to her like a wolf to carnage-at least, that was the theory. She folded her arms under her, and let her weight fall against the ledge, giving him a clear view of her back.

He came to a stop beside her, keeping only a hair's distance. She could feel the heat of his skin at her elbow. Sakura looked up at him through her eyelashes. Standing beside her, with his head turned out towards the village, was Takinaga's eldest son. It had never been part of the plan for her to handle anyone other than Tomi. It certainly wasn't known that Kenta would accompany his father to Konoha. But when opportunities presented themselves, adaptations had to be made. "Can I help you Takinaga-sama?"

"Yes, maybe you can. I was looking for someone to talk to." His smile was radiant, definitely a charmer.

She acted distant, professional, "well, since I'm here." Dipping into a bow slowly, she offered a formal introduction, "Haruno Sakura, ANBU. It's a pleasure, Takinaga-sama."

He gave a shallow bow, "The pleasure's all mine."

Sakura returned her arms to the ledge, "what would you like to talk about Takinaga-sama?"

"Kenta's fine." he interrupted, gaze settling on her face, but shifting every so often to her chest.

She brushed the crepe at her bosom, flicking away imaginary dirt. "Is there something on my gown?"

His laughter boomed far into the darkness of the night, "No, there's something in your gown."

_Good-for-nothing pervert!_

Sakura didn't have a hard time pretending to look affronted, but her heart rammed under a rib when his face drifted much too close to hers. The skin over his cheeks was milky smooth. She shifted back, suddenly not liking the observations she was making. Before she could escape the circumference of his breath, he set one quick kiss to her cheek, nothing but the faintest brush of lips. She blushed to the roots of her hair.

"That's very inappropriate," she managed.

His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "You're too pretty for me not to try."

"I'm also ANBU," Sakura warned, glad for the spark in her words.

Kenta leaned away from her, showing her white teeth through his narrow grin. "Worth the risk."

"You're a terrible flirt."

His head moved side to side in denial, "Nope. A very good one actually."

"Yes, well," she shook the skirt of her dress to distract herself, "I'm not all that affected."

"Of course not, you are after all here on orders."

She held his stare solidly, face carefully blank.

"Doesn't really matter, either way," he told her, turning away to face the view, "I'm just glad I get to take advantage of the Hokage's hospitality. You're quite the catch, Sa-ku-ra-san."

He enunciated each syllable with cheek, and she squared her frown into a plain, straight line. _Jerk. _"Here to please," she bit out.

Kenta had ended their chat with a kiss. It had been softer and kinder than she'd expected, but it had nonetheless shocked her into nearly slapping him. The worst part, she'd felt her stomach turn on its head in that nauseatingly exiting way that shot all the way to her toes. He'd even gotten a dance out of her before Kakashi-like some self-proclaimed father-had taken her away with a half-assed excuse and a rather vicious glare thrown over his shoulder.

* * *

She was sitting-hiding-in the garden, her chakra concealed, when the strained voices of two young men reached her.

"Hey," one whispered hoarsely, "what's up with Grumpy?"

Sakura could picture him shielding his mouth from 'Grumpy' with a flat hand, gossiping with his conspirator.

"Something must have gone wrong during the ceremony," a second voice answered, similar in tone.

Sakura was starting to get an idea of who the speak-easies where. Both young and naïve, speaking about someone who had been at the ceremony. Only one option: Sasuke's guards.

"Maybe the pink chick blew him off?"

Sakura nearly ruined her cover at the next suggestion.

"Maybe he has a wedgie."

The unmistakable, and very pissed, voice of Sasuke rang clearly, "_whispering_," he began harshly, probably chewing through his tongue, "only works if the other party isn't within earshot!"

Beyond Sakura's view, Yuuto and Daiki shared a glance, "wedgie."

"Undeniably."

Sasuke's eye twitched, teeth grinding against each other.

_They're just kids. They're just kids. Do NOT strangle them._

A muffled outburst of laughter made him pause. Sasuke was rarely ever embarrassed, but when he snapped to his left, spotting Sakura, his face burned. Not only had he failed to sense her, but the two, most idiotic ANBU in the entire shinobi world were talking about his undergarments. He could only be thankful it was a moonless night.

"Hey, pink chick!"

Sakura turned towards his companions, "It's Sakura."

Daiki nodded his head, "Sakura-san, then," he said noting her tattoo.

"Did you blow Grumpy off?"

She felt her lips pulling into a smile, a reaction out of her control at the moment, "Grumpy," she teased, eyes straying to observe Sasuke's scowl, "wouldn't let anyone get close enough to diss him. He's like a porcupine, keeps you at a distance."

"I prefer," Daiki said, grinning, "a cactus; the big, nasty ones they have in Suna."

Yuuto nodded beside him, his distinct, curling red hair bobbing. "Porcupines have too much personality," he agreed.

"I suppose you're right."

"Don't encourage them," Sasuke muttered, walking further into the garden.

Sakura followed after him, hearing Yuuto and Daiki arguing behind as they fell further back.

"But we're his guards!"

"Yuuto, give them some room. We don't won't to intrude, eh?"

Yuuto's yelp and protest, "why the hell you'd elbow me so hard!", was the last thing she registered from them before moving away.

She spotted Sasuke beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, drawing a hand through his hair in frustration.

"It's just one more year. Then they're gone," she offered.

She could only tell that his eyes, their blackness indistinguishable from the darkness, rose to meet her because of the torch light that bounced off them.

"I don't know if you have any sort of control over who's assigned to me, but if you do, make them go away."

Sakura rolled her eyes at his tone. Even begging for something he managed to come across as haughty. "Uchiha Sasuke, asking me for a favor. Is the world coming to an end?"

He turned away from her sullenly.

Sakura felt the stirrings of his chakra rising slightly in anger, "no, I don't have any control over that. But if I did, I wouldn't change them. I think," she continued, finding her way to a bench-a godsend for her pained feet-"that they're good for you," her last word was delivered like an actor's line, emphasized by a dramatic pause, "_Grumpy_."

If Sasuke had had his sword, he would have rested his hand over the hilt, if only for the comfort of its feel.

She watched him from her vantage, the Uchiha crest prominent against the dark silk of his haori, hakama waving stiffly with a soft wind. It struck her that he was handsome. It shouldn't have surprised her though, he had the makings of a heartbreaker since infancy.

"Stop staring."

"Couldn't help myself," she admitted unabashedly, a change from her younger days when a stuttered apology and pink cheeks would have been his answer, "you're quite handsome."

He chose not to answer.

"Thank you for not obliterating Takinaga."

The name forced his eyes into a narrowed glare, "I didn't do it for you."

His head moved slightly towards her when she laughed sarcastically.

"Sasuke, I stopped caring about you doing anything for me a _long_ time ago."

"Hn."

Her voice settled, "seriously, though. I know it took a lot of will power not to beat him black and blue, my aching hand is proof of that."

"You shouldn't have given me your hand then."

She huffed, putting her arms behind her and crossing her legs as she leaned back, "I didn't give you _my_ hand to crush. I was trying to crush _yours_ in a chakra-enforced reminder."

Sasuke looked upwards, absentmindedly counting stars, "didn't work."

"Yes it did. He's alive, isn't he?"

"Not by my choice," he added, tracing the shape of the Great Ninja with his eyes. His father had signaled it out once, briefly. It had been Itachi who sat with a five-year old, patiently pointing from one flickering dot to the next until the shape of a shinobi stared back at his little bother.

Sasuke's fingers curled into a fist, knuckles white. The hand that pressed into his shoulder startled him, but he repressed a flinch.

He tilted his head to see Sakura standing beside him, her arm still resting against him gently.

"Who taught you about the constellations?"

He looked back at the sky, "my brother."

She'd guessed as much. "I met him, you know. When we were little. He was," she began, hoping her choice of words wouldn't trigger a catastrophe, "nice."

"He was a hypocrite."

The bitterness in his voice was sharp. She drew her hand back, pretending she didn't feel his trembling.

Sakura bit her bottom lip, "I think he was honest, once upon a time."

Sasuke jarred away from her quickly, "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Sasuke,"

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, she saw him stiffen and turn abruptly. Her own senses felt Kenta's chakra flicker to life, but not in time for her to stop him from lifting her feet off the ground.

Sasuke stood by, watching as Takinaga spun her in a circle.

"I've been looking for you. There's a flower here that only grows in Cloud. It's rather miraculous Konoha could keep it alive in this climate."

Sakura stood stiffly, looking a bit put out to have been swung about like a teenage girlfriend.

"I'll see you around, Sasuke," she said plainly. It suddenly struck Sasuke, as Kenta's fingers slipped over her hand, a hand missing an engagement ring, why Sakura let Takinaga steal her away. He hoped he was right in assuming that she was on official business. Although why it was any of his business, he didn't know. When Yuuto and Daiki's obnoxious bickering floated into the perimeter, he turned away from where they'd disappeared, deciding that it _wasn't_ at all his business.

* * *

She felt his presence before he spoke.

"Where were you?"

Sakura swiveled in his direction, "out." Her voice held no intonation, much less invitation; it was almost as flat as Sasuke's.

Kakashi gave her a searching glance, wondering if he'd find any sign that Takinaga's son had been less than chivalrous.

"What are you doing in my house?"

He held up his forearm, where a jagged, bloody line peeked through the sleeve of his jacket, "Gai got a little competitive."

She eyed him skeptically, her brow wrinkling in irritation, mouth pressing together in distaste, "you've nursed worse injuries yourself," she pointed, well aware of why Kakashi was really there. As if she'd bring Kenta back with her.

"No need to be so mean Sakura-chan."

Her humph was a poignant addition, "I'll be back after I change."

He shrugged his shoulders and sank back into the chair, waiting nonchalantly as she passed into her home before setting his searching gaze on her back. But he found no hint or clue, not a curl out of place nor a zipper unzipped.

"Stop staring." She muttered, twisting the handle to her room, not even sparing him an exasperated glare.

Smart girl.

Kakashi pretended he hadn't heard her, turning soundlessly to face the wall as a firm _click_ floated down the hall.

Sakura pressed her forehead to the cool wood of her door, eyes squeezed tightly together. Darkness, silence, stillness spoke a quiet language around her. The emptiness of night proved fertile ground for her regrets. They sprouted viciously, latching their grip around her neck in a choking grasp. She brought her hand up to her mouth, to catch a sob. How could she? How could she have let Kenta kiss her like that. For Kami's sake she'd just met him! And Naruto, oh gods, Naruto.

"I'm so sorry, Naruto. I'm so, so sorry," she whispered to the wood of her door. She felt like a whore, except, she knew she wasn't, because it had been years and she was only human and so many other perfectly good excuses.

"Hey Kakashi," she called out.

His answer drifted to her, loud despite the closed door.

"How about you buy me a drink after I patch you up?"

She could tell he was caught of guard by her request, but he complied easily enough, "sure."

There, she thought, some good fun, a night on the town, a bit of social drinking, and she'd feel better in no time, all her troubles washed away. She wished the feel of Kenta's hands could dissolve as easily.


	10. Day 380: The Tributary, Part II

**IMPORTANT Author's Note: **

As unprofessional as this is, I've made some major edits to chapter 8, The Tributary (you'll find this same note at the start of _The Tributary, Pt. I_). Why, you might ask? Because after having revisited that chapter, it's come to my attention that the events between Ino, Sakura and the Takinagas, is unnecessary, at least in the author's opinion (this is, of course, a matter of opinion). Some of you might remember that in this chapter Sakura and Ino are asked by Tsunade to persuade the Takinagas by any means necessary to support the passing of a treaty between Cloud and Konoha in Cloud's council). It seemed out of place for Tsunade to order Ino and Sakura to personally secure the Takinagas vote when the Takinagas were already amply motivated to help the treaty pass (what with the favorable trade agreements and Cloud's necessity for a strong ally against Akatsuki). As such, it seemed more in-line with the story to do away with that part of the Tributary mission. For those of you who wish to reread/know about the changes, here is a list of the altered/cut scenes. For those of you who want a summary of the changes rather than having to go back and reread, you'll find them below. I apologize for this inconvenience, but since House of Cards is a living document, changes sometimes result.

**Summary of changes made to The Tributary, Pt. 2:**

So in this part of the chapter, the same changes applies. Ino and Sakura are not on a mission to convince the Takinagas, though they will continue to entertain their attentions for the sake of courtesy and possibly plying information from them. Tiny change to Cloud's social structure were made; where as before more than one wife was allowed, I've since changed it to only one wife, but courtesans are allowed. Architecture is still western. Sakura still struggles with the fact she actually liked Kenta. All scenes regarding Ino at the Takinaga's secondary estate and her subsequent rescue were cut, thus Kenta never freaks out about Ino's absence when he comes to say goodbye to Sakura.

**Scenes that were altered in The Tributary, pt. 2:**

1. Scene with Kenta and Sakura discussing in alleyway is altered to reflect the change in Sakura's mission

2. Scene with Ino and Takinaga (Tomi) at his estate is altered to reflect the change in the mission

3. All scenes dealing with Ino's rescue were cut, so she never receives a scroll to transport her to the Takinaga household, and therefore never leaves

4. Scene where Kenta gives Sakura a chain to hold her and Naruto's engagement rings was slightly altered to fit with the rest of the changes (since originally in this scene, Kenta discovers that Ino is not in the suite and thus alerts Sakura to his father's secondary household that prohibits the use of chakra)

**A further Summary of Changes for both parts of the Tributary chapter:**

1. Instead of Tsunade giving Sakura and Ino full missions to seduce Takinaga, she only requests Sakura to escort him to the gala, flirt and dance a bit, and continue a shallow flirtation on her mission to Cloud. Takinaga, however, meets Ino at the formal ceremony where he receives the tributary and invites her to the gala as his companion. At the gala, Kenta takes an interest in Sakura, and Tsunade tells her to go along with it.

2. Sakura feels mildly attracted to Kenta when he flirts with her, this of course puts her at odds with herself, as she feels she's somehow betraying Naruto. She lets him get away with kissing her. Also, Kenta is less threatening to her now that the pressure of her original mission is removed.

3. Despite her interest in Kenta, Sakura does not pursue him, and lets him know she is no position to initiate a relationship with him

4. There's no hectic rescue to save Ino from Takinaga Tomi, since there's never any deal cut between them and Ino has no ties to him beyond a few conversations.

**Original Author's Note:**

1) To my reviewers: Wow. You guys are awesome! It's really encouraging to get such positive feedback for this story, especially now that I've reached that point where every chapter gets harder and harder to write. I hope that as the story progresses it continues to meet your expectations. Thanks to all of you for your time, thoughts, and support!

* * *

**(**The Updated Chapter**)**

**Chapter 8**

**Day 380: The Tributary, Part II**

On their last day of travel, the sky was grey-the pale, sickly grey that sucked color from the world. The sun strained weakly through a heavy velvet veil, casting the forest into shadow. The threat of rain had hung over them the entire afternoon, charging the air with the sort of thick heat that should only be found rising from miso soup.

She wondered if they could make it before the storm hit.

A rumbling tumble of thunder drummed it's way across the sky as the first drop fell. It was followed by another, this one hit her nose, then another, her cheek, and another, her eyebrow. It wasn't long before the roof of the world seemed to rip itself in two, dropping rivers over their heads.

So much for staying dry.

"Welcome to Cloud," Kenta said cheerfully, laughing at her sour glare. She turned away from him, touching a hand to her neck, searching through cloth until she found her engagement ring, and Naruto's-he had insisted she get him one too, to discourage 'fan girls'-hanging safely from a chain.

"Hirosaki-san," Takinaga began ahead of her, his voice deceptively polite, "This is close enough to the pick up spot. Our shinobi will have no trouble transporting us from here."

Hirosaki was never one to stand for her subordinates-much less her charges-giving her orders. But this, she reminded herself, was not a man she could scold. "We'll rest."

Sakura watched cautiously as Takinaga eased himself closer to Ino, taking up one end of her tent and, gentleman that he was, pitching it into the ground.

Her own tent was nearly done when it toppled over. Her glare snapped to Hitoshi, who walked on by as if he hadn't done a thing.

Sakura had expected animosity. New team members were always treated with resentful tolerance until they proved themselves, until the memory of a lost friend was smoothed-although, never erased, much less replaced-by promises of a new one. But Hitoshi's actions were bordering, no, they _were_ ridiculous. And absolutely juvenile. She wondered how his parents had made the mistake of naming him for level-headedness, while his stone-faced brother got stuck with "radiance." There must have been signs of their insanely polar personalities from an early age. Couldn't they have switched the names? As it was, they were a walking oxymoron. She briefly considered handing them over to Iruka, they'd make a great example for his literature class.

With a sigh, Sakura stared after Hitoshi's retreating back, his honey blond hair bouncing with his energetic gait. He stood next to his brother, a beaming grin exploding across his face when he looked at her fallen tent. His twin, green eyes bored and flat, a default setting, paid her little attention. Not that she would have held it for long, considering the kunai that slipped into the soft earth between them, exploding tag hanging from it's tilted grip like a leather strap from a gardener's trowel.

She heard Hirosaki's yell just before the tag detonated, her voice bowing to a pounding wave of sound and heat that bled over the land.

Sakura caught little of the blast, and was on her feet before the smoke had even appeared. Kakashi was screaming, his lips moving, but all she could hear was a piercing whistle. Sound had been ripped away from her for the moment, lending the scene a strange effect. Her chakra pulsed, soothing and healing. It turned out, Kakashi's warning had been for her.

"BEHIND YOU!"

Her kunai just barely stopped a ninjato from hacking through her neck. In the same motion, she sent the kunai straight through the ribs of her opponent, he crumbled behind her, dead before she saw his face.

They were being surrounded, she noted with widening eyes. A sizable group winding a corral around the trees. Her only comfort came in how easily they fell. They couldn't be any more than chunnin. Whoever ordered them to strike against an ANBU cell thought little of their lives. She heard Hirosaki throwing out orders, calling out formations. But she ignored her, because right now, it was the medic her team needed. Sakura cut her way to Hitoshi's form, yelling over the body of his brother. Slicing into hearts and livers, she moved through the chaos of smoky battle. Her breath stilled in her lungs when a senbon tore through her cheek. She was grateful for the warning though, it saved her from a broken back. The shinobi found himself on the receiving end of her backhand. His skull made a sickening crack as it slammed into a slab of rock. Something winced within her, rebelled at the blood her hands spilled. She quieted it, looking ahead at Hikaru's prone body.

She was less than three meters away from him, when it happened. He fell from the trees and dropped right before her, katana drawn towards her neck, rain running down it's polished surface in rivulets. It would have been an ordinary thing, she would have countered the attack easily, if not for his eyes-the pale, white eyes of a Hyuga. A flash of white lit up his face through the downpour, the roar of thunder following. Her breath caught in her throat as the muscles in his arm tightened, ready to pull the sword through her jugular. The sound of metal ripping the weapon from his hand surprised them both, especially when it was followed by the blur of a silver-haired shinobi tackling him to the ground.

"Fang," she warned, using his codename.

"I know. Get to Stone!"

She flew away from them, tucking back the knowledge for later, now wasn't the time. Blood running down her face, hair plastered to her eyes, Sakura fell next to Hikaru's body. She noted, with some relief, that there was the soft, if wavering, movement of his chest.

"Save him," Hitoshi begged, his voice a hysterical, but whispered plea. "Please!" His hand reached out to grip her arm, painful in it's strength.

She took his shoulder in her grasp, detecting the signs of panic, "Look at me." she said in a firm voice, ignoring the sounds of battle, "he's going to be fine. But you need to protect him, and me, while I heal him. Do you understand? Can we trust you to do that?"

His eager nod, the setting of his jaw was all she needed.

Her hands wove a spell above his body, searching for what her mind already knew she'd find. Through intact skin, she could feel a shredded interior, organs blown or mangled by an expanding wave. He had received the brunt of the blast. Rain and blood dripped onto his pale skin as she worked, leaving splats of rose water. A sword embedded itself into the tree above her head, she heard it's echoing clang as it settled, but she didn't look up, could not afford to. She would have to trust Hitoshi with her life, as he had trusted her with his brother's. She hoped he wasn't as inexperienced as he seemed. Slowly, as she redrew the insides of Hikaru, she could feel the sounds of battle dwindling. A final shriek rent the ear and forced a wince over her face. With one fast prayer to the heavens, she peaked through the wet curtain of her hair. The enemy was dead. The tension that had gripped her lessoned, and she finished her work on Hikaru, uninterrupted, safe in the knowledge that her comrades had succeeded. She would have felt better if the image of the byakagan wasn't haunting her. She could only hope that when Sai finally spoke with her, when he brought her the name of the man she would tear to pieces, that his clan's profile wouldn't include white eyes.

* * *

Tsunade never liked dogs. No, they were loud, needy, and dirty little things that smelled and drooled, and barked. She liked to compare them to grubby toddlers, the type that were worse off after a bath.

Her thoughts must have given her away.

"Nice to see you, too," the pug mumbled.

"Likewise."

Pakkun sniffed the air angrily, spinning in a circle before ceremoniously planting his ass on her desk. A scroll dropped from his mouth, one wet thread of saliva hanging between them.

"Classified message. Type A."

Her thin eyebrow curved upwards as she reached, with reluctant fingers, for the slobbered scroll.

"They were attacked,"

"I thought," she began, unraveling the wet paper with a grimace, "that it was classified."

Pakkun rolled his eyes, huffing in irritation. "I am trustworthy, you know."

She caught his bitter mutterings of 'unlike stupid pigs. Good for nothing, if you ask me.'

The ink was blurred, but legible. Tsunade ignored the mutt's whispering, skimming through the messily printed script of Kakashi's left hand-must have hurt his right, probably too stubborn to get it healed the normal way. As if letting it heal on it's own was natural in their work.

_Ambushed by low-level Rain shinobi…defeated…no casualities…a Hyuga…escaped._

The name snapped her to attention. She flew from her chair, startling Pakkun into toppling ungracefully over the edge of her desk. His yelp, and subsequent glare, didn't deter her from her actions. Moving closer to the lamp, Tsunade reread the character, and then read it again.

"It's not smeared."

Her eyes, honey in the twilight, flicked to him, "is he sure?"

Pakkun offered an exasperated glare, "Of course he's sure, it's Hatake, not some genin. Plus," the pug added, an air of amusement around him, "the pearly-eyed bastard broke his wrist in the fight. He pays extra attention to those opponents." The mutt's humor was lost on her.

_A Hyuga_.

_Kami_.

They had strong allies, good connections, and large numbers. They controlled nearly a quarter of the council, and had more than enough power. They could start a civil war, tear Konoha apart from the inside.

If the Hyuga were involved, if they were the traitors… Even within the privacy of her own mind, she didn't dare finish the thought.

* * *

Sakura plucked the worn photo from where it had fallen on the ground, catching a glimpse of a serious man in ANBU gear. The straight line of his mouth was softened by the warmth in his eyes.

"That was my husband," Hirosaki's voice interrupted, pulling the picture from her hand.

The use of the past tense wasn't lost on her. Sakura's lips parted slowly, but her voice hesitated, unable to form an apology.

The light of the fire played across the contours of Hirosaki's face, pushing shadows and warm squares of light over her skin. She hesitated only a minute before putting the picture within an interior pocket of her vest.

"He looks like the type who would be a captain," Sakura complimented.

A slight smile twisted Hirosaki's face. "He was my subordinate. It drove him insane."

Sakura risked a soft puff of laughter, cautious of its volume, both for the sake of the woman in front of her and the sleeping pallets beside them. She didn't want to risk upsetting this tiny window of acceptance. It was the first time the captain spared her conversation. "I'm sure that would drive any man crazy."

With a nod of her head, Hirosaki made a small noise of compliance.

"What was his name?"

"Akira."

Sakura smiled faintly, "that was my Captain's name." She pressed her hands together, fingers lacing around each other, "I remember," she began hesitantly, unsure of her history, "him saying it had been the most popular name of his generation."

Hirosaki's eyes softened when she scoffed, "that's an understatement."

"It was because of the character in that famous book, right? The samurai one."

The choking snore of Hitoshi drew their eyes away for a moment, peering into the darkness lazily before moving back to the glow of the fire.

"Akira the Ronin decided the namesake of every boy and his brother."

Sakura grinned, "well, he was handsomely written."

With a muted snort, Hirosaki reached for her canteen, the swish of hollowness echoing back at her. The cloud nin were taking much longer than anticipated.

"Don't tell me the medic-nin on my team has read that," whatever foul word she'd had on the edge of her tongue was carefully tucked back into her throat, her precise control found a substitute quickly, "forgettable novel."

"The writing may have been sub par, but the story wasn't, especially not the Ronin."

"Bad boys never turn out the way they do in novels, Haruno."

Sakura's lips turned upwards wistfully, "no, no they don't."

* * *

Calmed by the feel of his chakra-a third of it, at least-Sasuke ignored the itching, tampered seal at his neck. The rush of power coursing through his veins left him almost as tired as the day it'd been taken away, but the exhilaration lent his gait strength.

His guards were mostly gone. Other than the infrequent (no doubt related to the frenzied increase of missions and shinobi activity, and possibly war), flickering presence of chakra gliding through the rooftops, his newfound 'freedom' was enjoyable. He was sure the ANBU liked the distance as much as he did. Well, except for two persistent and apparently masochistic idiots.

"Oy! Grumpy!"

He seriously considered hiding. His eyes, with all the ease of someone used to timed reactions, glanced over five key spots, well hidden in the shadows cast by the midday sun. His feet were only ten steps away from a crevice between two kiosks, that translated to less than a second (if he had his math right, which he always did) with chakra-enhanced speed.

It was only pride, that damnable Uchiha pride which kept him from crawling in between the pungent smell of fish and onions.

"Hey! Didn't you hear us!" Daiki hollered, punching his shoulder before letting his arm drape itself over Sasuuke's collar.

The lingering effects of his good mood-rapidly disappearing-narrowly kept Sasuke from tearing off the offending limb. With one quick, and rather violent, shake, Daiki's arm fell away.

The brat didn't seem to notice the agitation he was causing, continuing to tie together a string of sentences that Sasuke neither cared for nor wanted.

On his other side, Yuuto decked his partner over the head, bumping his elbow against the back of Sasuke's skull.

A vein tickled the surface of his forehead, right eye twitching against murderous intent. _Breathe. _

"_Anyways,_" Daiki huffed, throwing an indigent glare at the bobbing red curls of Yuuto as his hand massaged the growing welt through his hair, the reason we're here-"

_There's a reason?_ A part of Sasuke growled with the amiability of an old dog.

"is because we thought you might like to spar with us!"

He felt his bitterness ebb like the ocean before a tsunami. He pictured twisting arms, drawing screams, and grinding faces into dirt. There was the slightest hint of a smirk, completely undetected by the boys on either side of him, when he answered.

"Lead the way."

His words elicited a happiness he was unwilling to encourage, especially among these two. "Holy Hell!" Yuuto screamed, turning to Daiki in a blaze of color, "THE Uchiha is gonna spar with us!"

"I know! I know! I'm right here you idiot!" There was no bite to his insult though, only the boundless euphoria of a child who'd gotten that special set of kunai for his birthday.

Sasuke's grin sullied a bit with their glowing mood.

Daiki, who seemed to have series disregard for personal space, and self-preservation, tried to drape his arm around him. Yuuto followed, linking their hands on each others' shoulders. With a ferocious snarl he ripped away from them, reviewing the 36 different ways to break an arm. _Charge. Attack. Pummel_, he chanted. _Charge, attack, pummel_.

The bouncing ANBU boys barely registered their transgression, choosing instead to whistle at a passing girl with the characteristic straw hat of a farmer.

"Hey there, pretty thing!"

Daiki, in what must have been a suicidal act, pushed Sasuke towards her. He crashed into the woven basket she carried, catching it, and himself against her. Her horrified gasp had him looking up to find his left hand resting on the her chest, the softer, rounder part of her chest. His stumbling leap backwards, coupled with her raging blush and the quick aversion of his eyes set his companions into peels of laughter.

Sasuke didn't know how he kept himself from crushing their heads. After all, he'd killed for lesser insults. He blamed it on Yoshida's meds, the damn things made him soft. Although they didn't do anything to lessen the bruises he handed out when they reached the field.

_Charge. _

_Attack. _

_Pummel_.

_Pummel. Pummel. Pummel. _

The smirk he wore as they walked away from their "workout," could have lasted through the day, maybe more, if he could just memorize the pronounced limp Daiki walked with or the grimace Yuuto made with every breath. But as was often the case with Sasuke Uchiha, smiles, or smirks, didn't stay with him for long.

"_That's him! The traitor!"_

"_You mean murderer." _

The whisper warped the curve of his cheek, painting his gaze black.

He would have ignored it, had resigned himself to walk away from the bitter words, had Daiki not decided to buy his drink from that vendor. Even then, he walked right by them as they plopped onto two of the five stools laid out. It was the next words that angered him into staying.

"_He's leaving! Good Riddance!"_

Kakashi always said he was a stubborn ass.

"Oy, Oy! Ojii-san!" Daiki waved at the owner, "three frozen melons!."

Sasuke's eyes flicked to the women behind him, catching as his wife elbowed him sharply and nodded towards him.

The old man's gaze widened, as if seeing him for the first time. Slowly, methodically, and under the scrutiny of the women, he pulled a small watermelon from the cooler. Frozen wisps rose from it when his santoku split it neatly in half. Scooping out the fruit, he mixed it with ice and sugar, blending and shaking before pouring it back into the watermelon shells.

With measured steps, he set the bowels in front of the boys. Daiki, however, didn't pick his up, instead his arm pushed the melon half across the counter towards Sasuke.

"I said three, Ojii-san." There was no bite to his voice, his eyes were still cheerful when he spoke. Other than a breech in etiquette, he saw nothing wrong.

Sasuke scoffed. _Dense as a rock, or as Naruto. _Hoping the old man would finally yield, Sasuke brought the shell up, but it never reached his lips.

"We don't serve his kind here!"

The bowel slammed against the counter, juice sloshing over the fleshy rim.

Daiki looked between his black gaze and the brown eyes of the owner.

"What the heck are you talking about!" Yuuto said.

Daiki backed his question, "yeah, what kind?"

Sasuke jolted from his chair, stool nearly tipping in his anger. He wouldn't stick around for insults, not when there existed the threat of his reaction. But, before he could take a step, Yuuto's hand wrapped itself around his shirt.

His arm was coming up to rip the cloth from his fingers.

"Two-faced traitors, that kind. I won't serve any Uchiha. The lot of them are a pack of lying, haughty, traitors. Just like that brother of his."

Too late.

The pulse of his chakra was palpable, frightening in it's darkness. The sharingan exploded to life, forcing the man and his two consorts into the far corner of the stand.

Surprise was the only thing that saved Sasuke from ruining himself, surprise at Daiki's words.

"Watch your mouth Old Man, this bastard's our friend!"

"Yeah, what's your problem!"

Together, one arm pulling on each side of him, they dragged him out of the kiosk, grumbling profanities under their breath.

_Friend_

The word echoed in his head long after nightfall.

* * *

The first time it happened, it had been imperceptible, they had been in Cloud for a week and she blew it off as a cynical merchant on a bad day. The second time, was more noticeable. How could she ignore such a comment, made only inches away from her? Then, she began to pay attention. It was in the way they looked at her, in the way they looked at their own kunocihi, that she knew. She saw, for the first time, that the women standing next to honored shinobi were not friends or sisters of their wives. They were _all _wives (well, to be fair, only one was called a wife, the others were courtesans). Kenta told her a man could have up to three here. When she asked about their kunoichi, he said they never married, no man would take them. Sakura preferred to think it was them who would take no man, not if it meant giving up your career and sharing your bed.

"I won't make no deal with a woman."

Sakura felt anger as she ground her teeth. A sharp, vicious retort was roiling on her tongue when a hand touched her elbow.

She whipped her head towards Kenta, only to watch as he spread a crisp sheet of black rice paper, the gold stamp of his family prominently displayed, "I'll give you one stamp."

The vendor, who had been snarling and foaming at her, bowed humbly, face twisting into a servile smile "of course, Takinaga-sama!"

Sakura held the container of sake as they walked, "what a difference testosterone makes," she hummed, swinging it back and forth from her hand.

Kenta rolled his eyes, "you were trying to buy alcohol. Of course he wasn't going to sell it to you."

"Of course?" She snorted, "you say that like it's a good thing. As if a woman shouldn't have the right to buy herself a goddamned bottle of sake."

She continued when he didn't say anything, whipping herself into a feminist rage, "your people don't give a damn about women. I have no respect here! If it weren't for my diplomatic status, I'd probably have no rights either!"

"We respect women. They're honored and treasured in Cloud."

"Yes, as pretty little toys, housekeepers, and baby-makers."

Kenta only shrugged.

"I do hope you don't believe what you just said."

His gaze stayed on the road, old bitterness lacing his eyes. "No."

Sakura had never suspected that Kenta was anything but a shadow clone of his father, not until their journey when she caught him watching Takinaga's interactions with Ino. There had been hatred in his eyes. A deep resentment that took years to build and decades to forget. She learned gradually, by the way he spoke so highly, so reverently of his mother, that Kenta thought everything of her, and nothing of his father, the man who wounded her with his affairs and callousness. He had a multitude of facades that he hid behind. The spoiled, loyal son she saw at the gala was the face he chose to wear most often. But it wasn't him, the trouble was, she didn't know which face was.

"How is it," she began tentatively, "that your mother is an only wife?"

"It was a clause in their marriage contract, no concubines. Doesn't keep him from having as many women as he wants though."

Sakura didn't say anything after that. And Kenta stayed quiet until they reached the ambassador's suit, where he gave her a mind-numbing kiss that she did nothing to stop.

"I'll see you around, Sakura-san."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Hitoshi found her staring out the window, back straight and immobile, poised like some tragic princess waiting for her execution with the sort of spectacular dignity only found in stories. The intense stare he offered didn't phase her. She'd been thinking about Naruto, and what he'd say to her about Kenta if she could ask him about it.

"Hey, Princess, what's up with you?"

Sakura rearranged her face, wiping away the flat line of her lips, the dimness in her stare. When she turned to him, she was all soft smiles and crinkling eyes. She put her hand up to cover a jaw-splitting yawn, "just dead tired," she lied.

He bought it, "oh." One hand massaging the back of his neck, Hitoshi planted himself on the elegant couch opposite her.

"This place sure is snazzy," he hummed, moving his eyes over the rich decorations.

Her voice carried a pleasantness she hardly felt, but sometimes, she could fool herself into believing. "Well, we are in the First Palace."

Amazed as he was by the opulence, Hitoshi didn't seem to have much respect for it. He plopped his bare feet on the armrest, the muddy hemline of his pants resting over the brocade cloth. It was a small miracle he wasn't sitting on the white couch.

His easy sigh-and huge feet-brought a genuine smile.

"Hey, Sakura-san."

She hummed a reply, settling into the pillows.

"Thanks."

Her gaze found his, curious. "For what?"

"For what?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "For saving my brother, Princess, duh."

From anyone else, the casually brushed-off gratitude might have been offensive. But for Hitoshi, who seemed to waver between deadly serious or deadly ridiculous, it was a valid effort. "Don't mention it."

He shook his head, "no, I should mention it, because I was a jerk to you before."

"A toppled tent isn't that bad."

"Well…" he sheepishly grinned at her, "you remember the stale crackers, the wet sleeping pallet, the broken pack, the leaking canteen?"

Sakura felt herself gape. She remembered alright, remembered having the worst-and most embarrassing-luck she'd had since her genin years.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Princess."

She was almost certain there was still a hint of amusement behind his bashfulness, but she let it go, giving him an affirmative Sasuke-ism, "hn."

Hitoshi looked at her half sideways now, he'd been slipping lower and lower on the couch ever since the start of their conversation, "you know how it is on a new team," his voice lost most of it's humor, "especially when the new recruit is replacing a casualty."

A familiar ache shot through her, "you should be grateful you didn't loose your whole team, Hitoshi."

He stayed silent. "Anyhow, my brother thinks the same thing, he's grateful that is. Even though he doesn't show it."

She caught his quick '_stone-faced idiot_' comment before he continued, pushing the gold of his bangs away from his forehead.

"He's all gloom-and-doom about it. Says he owes you a life debt that binds him to you and obligates him to repay the favor and safeguard your life, yada, yada, yada."

"Hitoshi."

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to her.

She shot him a teasing smile, "you're ranting."

* * *

Ino had never let it bother her. The foreign hands that touched her, the false smiles she offered, they were part of a kunoichi's life. The blond bombshell who kissed and felt was not, she always told herself firmly, Ino. That was a woman made by Konoha, for Konoha. Ino, Ino was _her. _Ino was a flirtatious girl from a proud clan with a good-if slightly wild-reputation.

She had built a strong wall between her two selves, had understood the distinction, had never had difficulty in finding a balance that appeased both kunoichi and conscience. She'd never even felt guilt.

But the foundations of her world where rattled today. This mission was upsetting the order she'd created.

Never had she met the man's family. Not one single time. As she watched his toddler fumble with the leg of his pants, she supposed she should be grateful it was his family she first met. At least she wouldn't have to kill Takinaga, or carry the memory of the people who'd cry at his funeral. And he wasn't even a target, and she wasn't doing anything bad, just letting him flirt with her a bit, go along with his attentions, maybe see if he had anything pertinent to say, some intelligence for her to keep up with the happenings in Cloud.

The toddler, Hana, was a round-faced, three-year old with soft brown hair clipped into dimples on either side of her head. She was beautiful, in the painfully innocent way that only children can be. She was also smiling at her, at the woman who her father would dishonor her mother with, if it weren't for Ino's disinterest.

Ino knew there were plenty of women who Takinaga had bedded. She wondered how many of them he'd introduced to his wife, entertained in his home and allowed to dine in the company of his children. Hands twisted her insides. When his gaze met hers, she felt disgust. It was only years of training that masked her repulsion with a calling smile.

"Flower!"

Hana ran away from them, rushing towards a violet blossom that'd caught her attention. His eyes kept flicking back to her, even as he watched, with cold distance, as his child stumbled back, offering him adoration, love. As his pretty wife walked their way, she wondered where Kakashi and Hirosaki where. They were probably lost somewhere in the massive gardens of Takinaga's estate. She wished they'd hurry the hell up.

Ino felt herself falter when the woman met her stare. Her eyes, a dull brown, spoke of resignation.

She bowed to her husband, and then, with the same depth and respect, to her. It was as much a knife through Ino's heart as it must have been through hers.

"Anata," her voice, the soft lilt of shadows, used a word reserved for lovers, "should I take Hana to her lessons?"

Takinaga's reply left Ino watching the slump of her shoulders as she retreated quietly, with the silent grace of a woman who'd made the mistake of loving her husband.

"How about I show you the rest of the garden? There's a pagoda I think you'll like, perhaps we'll find Kakashi-san and Hirosaki-san on the way."

She could only hope.

* * *

Sakura swept her eyes over Kenta,-over his straight, seemingly serious face, and the draft stirring up his hair-making sure she'd heard him right. She blinked once, "You want to what?"

"I want to take you out." The way he said it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, had her questioning if he was really as smart as he was supposed to be.

"You can't take me out."

His mouth seemed to twitch with the slightest of frowns, brow twisting into a thin, puzzled line. "Why not?"

She stared at him openly, "Because I don't like you that way."

"Of course I know that!" he said, "but I want to anyway. I'll make dinner at my apartment," he inclined his head, "well, I won't actually make dinner, but the food will taste better for it."

The word _apartment_ rang warning bells within her head. As if he would care about candlelight and rose petals against cloth linens. More than a little annoyed, she bit out a frozen rebuttal. "I'm not that type of girl."

Kenta leaned into the brick wall behind him, arms crossed over his chest. "My reputation is _not_ that bad," sighing he ignored the skepticism in her eyes.

"Then why have you been pushing my buttons all this time?"

"Because there are plenty of women who have no qualms about waking up in strange beds. I wanted to know if you were one of them, in which case I wouldn't have minded the benefits."

Anger frothed like a rogue storm within her. "You were _testing_ me," she spat. Her hand trembled, a coiling spring ready to strike. His eyes flicked to her palm. But he didn't move. Tsunade's warning pulsed through her, _we need them on our side._ Sakura dug her fingers into her thigh, crumpling the elegant robes ambassadors favored. She wished she had her uniform to contribute to the threat of her aura, although the whole purpose of the mission was to kindle trust, and for that they had to appear inoffensive.

Kenta looked away from her fist, "You weren't exactly putting up a fight, Haruno."

Her blood boiled and her mouth fell open in stuttering indignation, "why, you little-"

"No names, please," Kenta begged playfully, waving his hands in surrender. "Plus, I certainly like _you_, so any _testing_, was genuine on my part."

Kenta watched her skin color a commendable shade of red. He peered around the empty alleyway.

She looked at him when he cleared his throat, "Look, forget the date, I can see I'm pushing my luck. How about some coffee then? Although it will have to wait until after the council convenes, I'm hoping to do some serious pushing for the treaty tomorrow."

Sakura stared, "You're putting a lot of effort into passing the treaty, some might say more than our bargain demands. Why?"

He shrugged, "because without Konoha, Cloud stands no chance. And because," his tone finished teasingly, "you're a very pretty girl."

"_You're a very pretty girl, Sakura-chan!"_

Sakura pulled herself together, ignoring how much he'd sounded like Naruto. _Everything _reminded her of Naruto. A habit the medic in her recognized as unhealthy; her heart called it inevitable.

"So what, you're some sort of gentlemanly player?"

He considered it, lips pursing, "that sounds about right."

She squandered his little epiphany, "that's an oxymoron."

Kenta shrugged, "well, you said it, not me. Are we on for coffee or not?"

"I don't understand you."

"That's because you believe everything you hear."

If that were true she wouldn't be so interested in searching for his ulterior motive.

He offered a lame explanation, "If I can't have some physical stimulation, I'll take the next best thing, riveting conversation."

She shook her head, playing along half-heartedly, a small-very small-part of her willing to accept him as sincere. "is that what you tell all the girls?"

Sakura watched his retreating back, dark hair blending with the gloom of the alley.

"Just the ones that don't let me get into their pants, er, robes," he amended, sweeping a gaze over the flowing skirt of her kimono.

Her eyebrows rose haughtily, though the expression was lost on him, "are there many?"

"No. They're hard to find, and the only ones worth my time. I'll pick you up after the council passes the treaty tomorrow."

"Ever heard of confidence before downfall?"

His last words echoed to her through the smoke of a transportation jutsu, striking against her heart, "yes, and it's not confidence. It's a promise."

* * *

A summons had called him to ANBU's interrogation sector. The damp underground maze brought unpleasant memories. Not of his visit here. He was a willing informant, never introduced-Ibiki aside-to the less savory characters of Konoha's underbelly. The white walls were nothing like Orochimaru's lairs. Certainly there had been no tiling, however old, or electricity, however dim. It was the darkness and the smell. The _drip drip drip_ of water and the nauseating whiff of mold, of blood, and sweat, a noxious cocktail of humanity's worst. Even the flickering fluorescent lights, stretching out into a black hole of a horizon, felt like the torches that hung from Oto's caves. They had run endlessly too, as far as the eye could see.

"Welcome to my home,"

If Ibiki's voice startled him, Sasuke showed no sign of it. He stayed with his back turned, unflinching as the scarred man with the disturbing smile came to a stop beside him.

"Come on, follow me."

Sasuke didn't move a step, "and where exactly am I following you to?" The flat intonation of his voice hinted at casual carelessness. As if it wasn't at all interesting or threatening to have ANBU's head interrogator leading him through a hallway of locked doors.

Ibiki laughed heartedly at his caution, "relax boy, you're safe."

With a vibrant scowl, Sasuke followed, "that isn't what I asked you."

"We have someone we'd like you to meet, two somebodies, actually," Ibiki offered, "we're heading to one of their holding cells."

When Ibiki, with a complex chakra-recognition system, pushed back the door of cell 028, the first thing Sasuke noticed was the pungent stench of urine, much worse than in the corridor.

"Well, he's made a mess."

Ibiki's comment earned what would have been a dangerous glare, if the effect weren't ruined by the man's condition. Sasuke had seen prisoners in sound and they had been in worst shape. But it never ceased to disgust him how far man could fall. _We were nothing, really_.

The head of mousy brown hair turned his way, hanging from dropping shoulders. He saw defeat, exhaustion, humiliation spelled in the lines of his eyes. He pitied him.

Sasuke turned, ready to walk out of the cell. He'd done things like this, tortured for Orochimaru, who watched as he did so. The faces of the men he broke, and ultimately killed, never left him. They had been given a slow, shameful death, dealt by his hands or his eyes. Killing the snake was supposed to put an end to that part of his career.

Ibiki's arm caught his elbow, "you just have to use the sharingan, compel him to give the information, nothing more."

Sasuke ripped his arm from Ibiki's grasp, "and if he resists?"

"Then you're free to move on to the next one."

The sharingan swirled to life as he stared at Ibiki, both their gazes unwavering. Finally, Sasuke crouched before the chained man. "Look at me."

"Like hell," he wheezed.

Sasuke's hand shot out. Faster than the snakes he summoned, his fingers wrapped around the man's jaw. With a quick jerk, brown eyes stared into red.

Ibiki came to stop behind him, "ask him," he intoned, watching the hollow gaze of the Rain shinobi, "what Akatsuki's planning. How do they plan to stop the treaty from passing."

"You heard him," Sasuke said quietly, "answer the question."

For a moment there was silence. The man seemed to resist, trembled in Sasuke's grip, his eyelids twitched, straining to close, but then the red of Sasuke's eyes grew bolder and the black wheels spun faster. Tension left the man, sapped away as easily as his chakra being drained.

"An accident," he rasped, dry voice scratching the back of his throat, "a planned collision between a Fire Country submarine and a steamship from Cloud. To make Fire Country look responsible."

Ibiki cursed, pounding a wall. Even Sasuke shifted.

"When."

"The new moon, when it's difficult to see."

The red bled from his eyes as he stood, the disoriented shinobi crumbling to the ground.

A radio's crackling static preceded Ibiki's urgent shouting.

Tonight, Sasuke remembered, was a new moon.

* * *

The meetings had been going well. In fact, the council was finally deciding, had been deciding well before sunset. In two hours time, they would finally have an answer. And by the looks of it, it would be the answer they needed. Sakura sat patiently, her posture strung with tension and the rigidness of etiquette. She kept her eyes on the heavy double doors of the council room, hoping that if her gaze remained unflinching, she might somehow see through he carved stone slabs.

"Blink, Sakura." Kakashi's voice broke her concentration, forcing her stare-glare-away.

"Sorry," she offered quietly. He smiled through his mask, hand coming to close over her own.

"It'll be alright."

She almost believed it. She had no reason not to. After all, Kenta and his father had kept their word, silencing enemies of the treaty and rallying public support, arguing vehemently for Konoha. It didn't hurt that they were the economic backbone of Cloud and owned nearly every loan, account, bank, and trading company in the village. Without their influence, Sakura was sure the treaty wouldn't have passed. Especially after three key council members began their own campaign against the alliance. It only took a strategic visit from Takinaga-under the false pretenses of pleasantries-to remind them that their entire fortunes were within the care of his banks, and wouldn't it be a shame if something was stolen?

But, it appeared, that even the Takinaga couldn't pacify the council after what happened next.

A messenger, eyes wild, ran past Sakura. The wind he carried behind him cooled her skin, but it frayed her nerves. There was dangerous urgency in his haste. She felt Hirosaki stand beside her as he barged into the council room.

Her team heard the startled gasps from the council at his appearance, heard the demanding voice of the Raikage raise at the interruption. And heard the fatal news that dropped from the boys mouth in a wild, scrambled mess.

"A submarine from Fire Country sank one of our steamships. There are over 600 casualties."

The silence that followed was filled only by the pounding of their hearts. Sakura wanted to fall back into her chair, wanted to let her head drop into her arms at what this meant. But all she could do was stare with startled eyes as the council doors were sealed shut, blocking out the outraged shouts of bitter, empowered men, the yells not for alliance, but for retribution.

They were _escorted_ back to their suites without further delay, a group of heavily armed, ANBU wannabes-the Elite-walking them rigidly to the ambassador residencies. She felt the wild chakra of her companions twisting within themselves, snapping when the door, for the first time in their visit, was locked behind them-from the outside.

They exchanged a weary glance when the presence of guards took residence outside all exists.

"What the fuck just happened!" Hitoshi screamed. His twin smacked a hand over his mouth, "silence, they're listening."

"It doesn't matter," Kakashi said, "it's not like we have a damn clue what's going on."

Wiggling away from Hikaru with an angry huff, Hitoshi turned to their captain, blond hair spinning "Cap, what the heck just happened!"

Hirosaki shook her head, "we'll find out soon enough."

"The treaty," Sakura spoke, looking at them. She let her question dangle in the thick air.

It was her sensei who spoke, turning his head away, in what she could only call defeat, "We'll see."

Ino squeezed Sakura's shoulder, "anybody want something to drink? I feel like having some tea." No one answered her, but she pretended they did.

Sakura watched her back, long hair pale in the moonlight as she disappeared into the kitchen. She was compelled to follow, but it took her three more tries before she broke away from the spell that hung over them, from the absolute shock, the confusion , and that god-awful feeling that their plan, so perfect less than ten minutes ago, had been torn and dismembered viciously.

"We're screwed, aren't we?"

Sakura looked at Ino, unsure how to answer.

"No," she began weakly, lacing false conviction into her voice as she reached for six cups, "things will work out." Sometimes it was good to lie.

Of course, Ino wasn't dumb enough to fall for empty promises, "sure, and I'm the Hokage."

She was too unraveled to guard against the rebuttal in her words, "well, what the fuck do you want me to say! That yes, we're screwed! That, yes, we might go into the war with only one ally!" She set the cups down in front of her, lining them up on the counter with more force than was necessary. The delicate china clinked against marble, protesting loudly at their treatment.

Ino, turned to flick on the stove, her movements just as clipped.

Sakura let out a hot sigh, draining the roiling mess within her, "sorry," she amended.

"No biggie," Ino smiled back at her slowly, "we're all strung tight."

"understatement of the century, Pig."

"Get over yourself, Forehead."

* * *

Tenten looked at the heavy gates of the Hyuga compound: at two imposing blocks of treated timber, sixteen feet high, twenty wide, and half a foot thick, plated with carved iron-built to keep things out and secrets in. They did their job well.

The two sentries on either side of them stared lifelessly ahead with unfocused eyes, seals painted prominently against their foreheads. She pulled Neji's stamped letter from her breast pocket, their white gazes touched it's edges. With quick movements of their hands, the doors ground apart.

She walked through the gate, feeling a shadow slip fingers through her ribs.

There, not more than fifty feet away, stood Neji's _honored_ wife, framed by the cherry woods of a pagoda and the heavy boughs of a willow. The fluid cloth of her kimono fell in yards of embroidered silk, carefully colored layers swinging 'round her neck.

She looked, Tenten mused, like a hime, like the daughter-or the wife-of a great lord. Every inch of her, from the midnight waterfall of her hair, to the alabaster of her skin, spoke of a princess. When she turned, swirling herself in a swath of silk, Tenten's heart cracked. Her hand, dainty with small wrists and musician fingers, rose softly to the swell of her stomach, landing with the quiet grace of a butterfly.

Neji's wife was pregnant, round with his child. Her blue eyes, shockingly beautiful against the backdrop of her hair, rose. Tenten stared at the silent apathy she wore, at the long-awaited sigh of victory written in those pupils.

"_I have won,_"they said, _"I am irrevocably his. He can not turn away from this."_

Tenten held that gaze, kept hers impassive, until Neji's voice broke through to them.

"What are you doing out here, Kinuko? It's about to rain, go inside."

His wife, with one last look at Tenten, moved with the ease of oil shifting over water. It was when his hand reached out for her as she neared the steps, as it clasped around hers carefully, protectively, that she knew.

"_I have won."_

Yes, yes she had. Because she was his wife. Because she would be the mother of his child. Because there never should have been any sort of debate at all. Tenten had been there first, but, her mind laughed hollowly, Kinuko would be there last.

Neji didn't turn towards her until after the last slip of silk disappeared behind the shoji screen, "that invitation was only for emergencies."

His voice remained as flat as she'd always known it to be.

"I came to warn you."

His focus returned to her fully, as if finally finding something interesting about her.

"What are you talking about?"

She shouldn't be risking her career for him. She shouldn't be jeopardizing her village for a chickenshit like him. He didn't fucking deserve it. Not after ruining her, not after destroying the girl she had been and leaving behind this…this woman she recognized as biting winter and broken hope.

"Whatever it is your clan's doing," she finally said, "is being watched."

The eyebrows hanging above that white stare moved imperceptibly.

Ah, she had surprised him.

Back turning, she dealt the final blow, a strike thrown with angry resentment in hopes of some meager form of retribution, "And I don't want to see you anymore."

His startled question slowed her movements, "What?"

Tenten paused, tilting her head in the slightest, "do you remember what you told me a few months ago? You warned me, 'act like a whore, and you'll be treated like one.' Well I'm tired of this game. I'll be no one's whore Hyuga Neji, not even yours."

His hand snapped up to grab her arm, wrapping itself around her elbow, "you aren't my whore."

A dry laugh flew from the back of her throat, an aching gasp pulled from her heart, "just your mistress. Will you bring him over when he's born? Maybe I should set up a playpen in my apartment, make sure he has a safe place to play while his father fucks me."

The strength in his fingers intensified, yanking her to face him. His eyes, always so pale and uncaring-even in their tenderest moments-seemed to glow.

"Does this have anything to do with that mutt?"

_Mutt? Mutt?_ Kiba's wild charcoal hair flittered through

her memory. "What the hell does Kiba have to do with this?"

There was jealously in his words, closely guarded but evident nonetheless, "the dog's always hanging around you. He's infatuated with you."

Tenten shook her head, unbelieving. "Think what you want," she answered, trying to break his hold over her arm.

It was his next statement, the desperate declaration of a loosing man, that pulled her back.

"I don't love her!"

How dare he. How dare he bring that up again, hide behind it like a shield, as if that was supposed to pacify her.

Her nails razed the skin at her palm. "BUT YOU MARRIED HER!" she screamed, brown eyes blazing, lip curled into a trembling line. Tenten took a slow breath, wiping away a drop of spittle from her lip. She must look like a madwoman. "And you care for her," she continued, softer, the fight draining from her with each truth, "and you're having a baby with her."

His voice was quiet, controlled, but there was the buried hint of anger, "You _know _I didn't want this marriage. You _know _I didn't have a choice."

Her black burst of laughter hung over them with the same force of Konoha's waterlogged sky, "you had a choice! You could have left all this behind," her finger pointed to the complex, "but I wasn't worthwhile enough for such a sacrifice."

Ice shot through his steady eyes.

"Did you ever love me?"

Hand falling away from her, leaving behind the promise of violet bruises, he stood still, willing calmness. "You know I do."

Another piece of her heart broke away, fell further into itself because she knew he was sincere. But she needed more than love.

"It's not enough."

One calloused hand found his cheek, wrapped itself around his jaw with a hard-earned strength his wife would never understand. If he had not been who he was, it would have made him beg.

The kiss she brushed against his lips forced his eyes to close, killed the breath within him. What a bittersweet goodbye.

When she pulled away, he couldn't help but hold onto her. "Don't," he whispered.

"I hate her, you know. And you too. Sometimes," she said, prying his hands from her, "I wonder if you had been a better man, yeah _better_," she bit at his stare, "if you would have left all this for me. But you weren't strong enough."

She left him where he stood with a sour smile and four words to remember her by.

"You were a coward."

* * *

"Suigetsu." There should have been more surprise in his voice, perhaps more question, but cues where not his strong point. Or perhaps they where his strongest, considering that in battle they made him unstoppable.

"Been a while, Sasuke."

Suigetsu shot him a grin, sharp teeth glowing in the gloom.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking the man over, from the ends of his matted, soiled hair-pale, but not quite as pale as it should be-to the ends of his dirty, bare feet. There were few wounds on him, and only his wrists were restricted, which meant he hadn't been interrogated yet.

"Enjoying some ANBU hospitality."

The joke was lost on him, "joining Akatsuki was not your smartest move. Not that you were ever smart to begin with."

His beady gaze narrowed, "I resent that. And I'm not Akatsuki! I've told these fucking bastards a million times," he finished, snarling at Ibiki. The man only returned a wicked smile, working around the cigarette in his mouth.

"Then what are you?"

Suigetsu looked back at the Uchiha, only to be caught in the spinning of red eyes.

"Bastard," he managed. Nearly a decade of traveling and the asshole still didn't trust his word. Not too much of a bad thing though, since he didn't care for loyalty or honesty.

"I asked you a question. Answer it."

The words were pulled through his brain and out of his mouth before he realized he was speaking, "I'm not Akatsuki."

Black spread through red, until Sasuke was staring at Suigetsu with plain eyes, respect for old comradeship (besides, what Ibiki wanted to know had already been answered), "what where you doing with the Rain shinobi?"

Suigestu leaned against the damp, hard wall, "trying to kill him. Unfortunately, we were interrupted."

"Why where you trying to kill him?"

When the glint of teeth was tucked behind silent lips, Sasuke called on his sharingan. The red laced itself slowly through his gaze, tomoe spining lazily, half-formed. It was a warning.

"Alright, already! Damn, put those creepy things away. Somebody should sharingan you, see how you like it."

"They have," he interrupted hollowly. "My brother did me the courtesy."

"Oh," Suigetsu had the decency of looking shamefaced, his hand came up to scratch through the crust of his hair, chakra chains rattling, "it's none of Konoha's business why I was fighting."

Ibiki's coarse voice rang from the darkness, "we make it our business," he said, the glowing end of his cigarette seemingly floating in midair.

"You Leaf make everything your business."

The binds around his wrists sparked, drawing a whispered hiss and locked jaw as his chakra-whatever little there was-was sapped.

"Wanna run that by me again."

Suigetsu didn't mistake that as a question. "The reason," _you damn, sadistic bastard_, "that I was fighting was because the Akatsuki bastards took Juugo." He looked straight at Sasuke as he said the name.

"Why so close to Konoha?"

"Juugo needed help with his…problem. Konoha's medic's are legendary."

Sasuke didn't say anything, and when he went to leave, Suigetsu ground his teeth.

"I knew you wouldn't give a damn. Out of all of us he was the most sincere, the most loyal-Karin's delusions aside. And you're just leaving him to the wolves. Motherfucker."

Sasuke halted by the door, but Ibiki pushed him past it, that is, until Suigetsu said something that really got his attention.

"He didn't tell you did he? That Rain ninja kept his mouth shut. You wouldn't be wasting your time with me if he'd told you."

Ibiki prowled back to the sitting Suigetsu, "speak up, boy."

"Make me a deal."

"No."

Suigetsu 'tsked,' eyes rolling, "Look, other than stumbling close to your borders I haven't done anything wrong-"

A short grunt of laughter cut him off, "you're an internationally wanted criminal."

"Details. To Konoha, I haven't really done anything. Actually, I helped track your most wanted murderer."

Sasuke moved his stare to him lazily, "Karin did the tracking,"

"More details," he continued, "you can't keep me in jail for nothing."

"We have more than enough reasons," Ibiki added, coming closer.

There was a powerful presence to that man that scared the shit out of Suigetsu, especially since he was tied to a wall, ten stories underground, in an ANBU interrogation unit. Not that he'd show it, he'd been around Sasuke long enough to gain immunity to dangerous, deadly men. "My trial," he said strongly, with false confidence and ignoring Scar Man's predatory gait, "will likely get me handed over to my own country. You gain nothing, I gain nothing. But, if you let me go, you get very valuable information and I get to retrieve my _friend_," he looked at Sasuke as he said this, special emphasis on the last word, "and in doing so save you from a big threat."

"What threat?

"Nah uhuh!" Suigetsu grinned, waving a finger.

Ibiki hated when they made his job difficult. What was the point in prolonging the inevitable? "Fine, have it your way. Uchiha, would you do the honors?"

Sasuke didn't move, still watching the smile on Suigetsu's face, "that's the problem with you Ojii-san, you only know how to use force-"

There was a scoff from his former teammate, "coming from you, that's completely hypocritical."

Suigetsu ignored the remark, "and this isn't something you can get by force. I did travel with a sharingan user for near ten years. Don't you think he would have taught me a little something in case our target-also a sharingan user-caught up with us? I know how to keep things hidden."

There was a drop of sweat rolling down his neck when he finished, but his face remained at ease.

_Don't call the bluff. Don't call the bluff! _

His eyes flickered to Sasuke, who, thank all the Seven Swordmasters, stayed silent.

A scroll appeared at his knees, pen lazily rolling beside it.

"Put down your confession, and we'll talk."

"Hell no!"

Ibiki passed a hand over the planes of his face. _Idiot_. "I'm giving you a free ride, boy. Once that's signed, it goes to the Hokage. Your deal will be honored."

Suigetsu had no way of knowing if it would be. He certainly didn't trust a Konoha shinobi as far as he could throw one-bad choice of words, since he _could _throw one quite far. But there was little option for him, if they didn't get Sasuke to finally call his lie, than they'd just beat the intel out of him. Might as well take what he could get. Putting pen to paper, Suigetsu began to write-in scrawling, graceless characters, that's what happened when you grew up in a laboratory-about the information he'd found out in Rock, about the planned assassination of the Daimyo's son to stop some treaty, and about the plot to use Juugo in the same way Orochimaru had.

When his bloody print met paper, his cell was suddenly empty.

* * *

The council was meeting, again. It seemed all they did was lock themselves in that room for hours, only to get nothing done. Kenta joked that the council really only cared to hear their own voices. Most of the time it was pointless bantering-and he was darn tired of it. Well so was she, and so was her team. Their nerves where haggard with strain, frayed with white-knuckle anticipation. The future of their village rested on this fucking treaty and no one could agree on whether to pass it or rip it to pieces. Tsunade had been sending envoys back and forth, letters from Pakkun where almost daily now.

The catastrophe, now affectionately known as _The Osamu Sinking_-damn the press-was finally, if shakily, being settled. Apologies had been formerly offered (even though every shinobi with half a mind knew the collision had been a sabotage), and the bodies, all 623, had been retrieved from Katsu Bay and returned to anguished families. Sakura couldn't help but think that those sailors had been the first casualties of war, the first of many more to come.

She pushed her bangs from her face, _Kami_. The fighting hasn't even started and already 600 dead. What else could go wrong?

She had to ask. The sound of breaking class, coupled with Hitoshi's colorful choice of words, had her walking through the doors of her room. Her team was standing in a scattered arch around the living room's television, lured by the soft glow like asteroids pulled by gravity.

The seriousness of Hirosaki's face, the shock on Ino's, and the tight line of Hikaru's jaw told her something very bad had happened. She side-stepped the shattered remains of Hitoshi's drink, staring hesitantly at the tv. Her heart stopped, skipped a beat and rebooted to a painful start. The bold, yellow headline announced the death of Fire Country's heir.

"The mangled body of the Daimyo's only son was found floating in the Kazuki River. Fire Country authorities are pointing fingers at Cloud, arguing that all evidence leads to an Elite assassination."

A gasp was ripped from her throat at the broadcaster's announcement, "my God," she breathed, hands coming up to her face.

"Fire Country's Daimyo is pressing the investigation, and until further notice has cancelled all relations with Cloud. We'll return with more information at our scheduled time. This was Nakamure Takeshi with a special broadcast, signing off."

The screen fizzled to black at Hirosaki's press of a button. No one spoke. Silence hung heavy around them, the words from the news reporter resounding endlessly through their minds, "_cancelled all relations."_

"Where's Kakashi?", Sakura urged.

It was Ino who, in a tight, small voice, answered, "he's been gone all day."

Hirosaki's face scrunched together, brown eyes sparking, "he knew."

Hitoshi's head snapped to her, "what!"

"Hatake received an encrypted Type A, for his eyes only. The Hokage must have warned him."

If the Hokage warned him, then was he somehow stopping information from entering the council? If so, then, "how?", Sakura asked.

Her answer came crashing from the ceiling.

Kakashi had miscalculated. A strange thing for someone like him, but he was drained, and too pressed for time to pay close attention to altitude when he jutsued himself from the hallway. At least Pakkun had remembered to seal off the suite. It wouldn't do for Cloud to know what he'd just done.

His back smacked unpleasantly against the hardwood floor, bones and organs jarring, lungs flattening.

"Kakashi!"

Sakura stared at him with wide eyes. His first response was a groan, quickly followed by a breathless, "yo."

She registered the low-much too low-state of his chakra. "What the hell where you doing?"

Kakashi had always wondered how she managed to sound both pissed to hell and sweetly concerned. Her hands, helped him up.

"It's done."

Hirosaki stared at him, "care to elaborate?"

"The treaty," he said, rising to a stand with his student's-scratch that, he reminded himself, remembering the tattoo she wore-colleague's help, "has been signed, sealed, and officiated."

Their waiting faces demanded explanation, "genjutsu. I 'compelled' the Raikage's head advisor to retain the information until after the council decided. He found himself arguing fervently that it was his civil service to save his country from devastation in the coming war. The treaty, of course, was the only way to do that. Honestly," Kakshi continued, dropping heavily onto the white couch, "it didn't take much to convince him. He was already thinking something along those lines."

"Then why are your chakra reserves so drained?" Sakura prodded, the medic in her raising protest.

"Had to use my special technique."

_The mangekyou sharingan,_ she thought, her eyes leveling a serious stare at him. His head turned at her accusation.

"Anyhow, it took another genjutsu to keep his less than loyal messenger boy from barging into the room."

"What of the Daimyo? He cancelled negotiations. Can he revoke the treaty?", Hikaru asked.

Sakura shook her head, remembering the tomes of legislation Tsunade had ground into her, "no, we were the initiating country. It would be too dangerous for us to revoke the alliance without hard evidence against Cloud. His advisors know that, they will intervene."

"Then it's settled?", Hikaru questioned, tone characteristically neutral.

"Yes," Kakshi confirmed, "the treaty's been secured."

* * *

The tapping at her window was insistent, demanding. Had she been asleep, she would have been angry to find Kenta crouching over the ledge to her bedroom, knuckles clanging against glass. But as it was, she was curled into a reading chair, keeping a quiet vigil for Ino and Kakashi's return.

She pulled the window open, leveling him with a stare two thirds scolding, one third curiosity. "What are you doing?"

His face broke into a sheepish smile, holding his precarious hold over stone with one hand, he brought the other to the back of his head like a little boy caught stealing cookies from a cooling tray.

"Nice night out."

She stepped aside, an invitation and forgiveness for his persistent knocking.

"What are you doing here," she repeated.

He caught the suspicion in her gaze, "you really don't trust me, do you?"

She moved over to her armchair, flinging the still-warm blanket over her feet, "what gave me away?"

His back settled against the post of her bed, sliding down it into a sitting crouch. Staring up at her, he spoke, "Just came to say goodbye. You are leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yes," she answered, looking at her book.

A box, small and narrow, fell into her lap. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze, an encouraging look that said _"go ahead, open it."_

Sakura took the lid between her fingers, prying it apart. Nestled between lengths of white silk was a plain chain, without pendent or ornamentation, so thin it nearly disappeared against the silk. She looked at him quizzically, "Ah, thanks?"

He pointed one finger at her neck, "it's for the rings."

Her eyes flicked towards him, mouth closed in silence, air thickening.

"The chain, it's white silver from Iwagakure, the strongest in the world. It will do a better job of keeping those safe when you're on missions. Plus it's practically invisible."

Sakura cleared her throat, one thumb brushing over the braided links, "thank you."

Kenta's expression shifted, pulling on another of his masks, "you're welcome. Do I get anything in return?"

"Heartfelt gratitude."

Rolling his eyes and leaning into the bedpost, he sighed, "that will have to do."

He watched her when she pulled the gold chain from her neck, letting the rings settle gently into her palms. She threaded hers through first, then, with special pause, a man's matching pair.

"If I were to ask you on a date, would you accept?"

"You already asked me on a date," she reminded him, sweeping her hair to the side while she worked on clasping the chain close.

Kenta was tempted to move towards her, push her hands away, and finish what she was doing himself. "You never agreed, and the pity-date was unexpectedly cancelled."

She ignored, as she often did when anything was too serious for her to address, "Normal boys don't sneak into a girl's bedroom to ask her out."

He pretended to be offended, "first, we're shinobi, nothing average about us, two, I didn't sneak in, you invited me, third, I'm not a boy," his lip twitched into a suggestive curve, "and fourth, don't change the subject."

She had no choice but to hold his stare, voice gentle, but firm, she asked a question of her own, "Why are you insisting?"

"Because I like you." When her face stayed flat, he continued, "I'm not saying I'm in love with you, or I'm going to die without you, but I am attracted."

"Most definitely," he added when the curtain of her hair slipped forward. "It looks better that way."

"What?"

"Your hair looks better pink. Brown is too plain for you."

She scoffed, "I can't have pink hair when we're traveling. What point is there in the mask if I've got pink hair? Not subtle and easily identifiable."

"It's perfect for you. So," he let a beat of silence stretch out, "what about that date?"

Sakura dropped her gaze to her hands. "Kenta, I, I like you, I do," she laughed lightly, "you're the first guy I've felt any sort of sincere attraction to in a long time-"

"But?" he interrupted, already sure it was what she was going to say next.

"But I just can't. And not only because I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Musta been one hell of a guy," he said, tapping his neck and pointing at her rings.

"You bet."

Plopping to the ground with a sigh, he shrugged his shoulders, "can't say I didn't try."

"You want some tea?" she asked, rising from her seat.

His answer came equipped with a pout, "Pity-tea?"

"Take it or leave it."

Springing to his feet, he rushed to hold the door open for her, "Make it coffee and I'm in."

"Done."


	11. Day 400: The Lanterns

**Author's Note:**

Once again, this one's for my reviewers!

**

* * *

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**Chapter 10**

**Day 400: ****The Lanterns**

They were minutes from Fire Country's border when they heard it: a loud, booming clap that filled the forest and shook the birds from their boughs.

The heads of five shinobi whipped towards the source, breakfast clattering to the floor as they sprang to their feet.

"What the fuck was that!" Hitoshi yelled. His exclamation cut off briskly by Kakashi's serious rebuttal, a call for silence as he turned his nose into the air.

"2 klicks, northeast," Ino contributed, latching onto the chakra signature. "there's another one, but he's leaving fast."

"Formation 3; Squad A, pursue, Squad B, with me. Move out."

Their shadows disappeared upon Hirosaki's order, black blurs zooming through the forest. Kakashi, mask pulled to his lips and nostrils flared to catch the breeze, found the trail of their fugitive-it was a smell he was familiar with, a mix of sweat, salt, and iron, offset by the subtle tone of chemicals distinct to each individual. Their fugitive had the taste of fireworks clinging to him-hints of charcoal, sulfur, and potassium nitrate clung to the air. Thighs burning from a particularly powerful sprint, he set a path east, the nearly identical chakras of Hitoshi and Hikaru following behind.

Sakura felt the last trace of Kakashi's presence disappear. Sending a quick prayer for him, she crouched over a thick branch, hearing the wood creak beneath her weight. Through nettles of green pine, she made out the body of a crumpled man, and the blood beneath him. His signal was wavering, flickering with the weakness of a candle. Instinct warned that, even with her help, he would die. Her breath latched when the last wisp of his aura blinked into nothingness.

She pressed the communicator at her throat, "permission to proceed."

The crackle of static distorted Hirosaki's voice, but her go-ahead was clear enough: "Granted."

Sakura leapt towards the ground, the hard earth meeting her bones with jarring strength. The chakras of her comrades ignited beside her, circling around her in an alert huddle.

Stretching a tentative arm, she pressed her fingers into his neck, just were his blood should be pumping fiercely. Her senses felt through the man's skin before the pads of her fingers could find a reading: the empty silence of stillness greeted her. His heart lay dormant within his chest. However, that wasn't what condemned him; she could make hearts beat again, but not when they were torn to pieces-not quick enough.

Three muffled footfalls signaled the return of Squad A.

"We lost him." Hikaru stated flatly. There were traces of anger lurking beneath his apathy. Had she not been focusing on her own anger-which spurred from a different sort of loss-she might have offered him a weak smile as consolation. As it was, her lips were thinned into a grim, hard line.

Vigilant Kakashi noticed it first. His coal eye stared at the back of her head. "What is it?".

Two black ribbons fell down either side of her forearm, the metal plate from which they originated clutched loosely in her palm. She held up the dead man's hitai-ate, angling it so the etched leaf emblem faced her team. "He's one of ours." Turning it over, she read from the identification, _Speacial Jounin Sasaki Izanagi, ID SJ31-26-54._

"What's the C.O.D?"

She turned towards Hirosaki, her eyes focused on the dead man's headband, on _Izanagi's_ headband. _Who did you leave behind to mourn for you?_ It was a thought she often had in the company of corpses. The dead moved on, as much as the living. Hands busy folding the strips of black cloth gently, she placed it within the pockets of her vest. Her words were clinical-a tone she used often as a medic. "Something pierced his heart, tore through the tissue. There's an exit wound," she hesitated for a moment, struggling to turn the body, "on his back," she finished, touching where the cloth of his jacket was torn into a minuscule, bloody circle. "That means whatever went through his chest had the power to go clean through."

Kakashi, following the smell of fireworks, dug through the ripped bark of a nearby tree, plucking from it's weathered trunk a crushed metal capsule. He held it between thumb and index finger, turning it over as the glint of sunlight caught on its surface. With an expression smoothed by seriousness, he brought it closer to his nose. The scent spurred memories of Hanabi Festivals, of tilting his face to colored evening skies as black powder clung to his nostrils. His gloved hands dropped the shard into an evidence bag, hoping, as he placed it into his pocket, that ANBU could find it's maker, and maybe figure out what the hell it was.

"Lily," Hirosaki spoke, using Ino's codename "tell us what he saw last."

Ino did not hesitate, although she wanted to. Moving to kneel beside Sakura, her hands moved in a rapid succession of signs, then sank into the hair at the man's temple, brushing against blood, sweat, and still-warm skin. She thought of silver cords, imagined weaving them into strong, unbreakable lines; threads to tie her soul to her body. The sounds around her began to fade, her breathing hitched when she felt death claw at her consciousness. It was never a pleasant experience sifting through a dying mind. It was like swimming through a flooded mine shaft that only got narrower and darker the further she went, until she felt that an exit could never be found, that she would loose herself within the hollow as air bubbled from her lungs. Sakura watched a shiver rake through Ino, her head fell into her chest and her spine went slack, hands dropping from their place. She put an arm around her, propping her against her shoulder, "hold on."

Ino felt something warm at her side. From a distance, from her own body someplace too far away for her to measure, she heard the fading ring of a voice. She kicked away from the blackness, moving through it lazily. There were patches too empty-too dead-for her to work on and she could feel the last piece of this man withering away. A rasp left the mouth of her body when the echo of his voice reached her, asking for his family, for his wife and child.

_Shh_, Ino soothed, remembering long afternoons spent with her father.

_The sun tickled the tatami mat, playing over the ridges in a warm glow. Wrinkles scrunched the skin around her nose as she thought. "What do you do then; if they talk to you?"_

_"You calm them down; reassure them." Her father said reluctantly. He had never wanted to teach her this technique. "Tell them to fall asleep and they will."_

_"But that's-that's terrible!" Her eyes grew wide, horror-filled. "They'll never wake up! We're the last person they'll talk to and what we're telling them is a lie!"_

_"Ino," her father interrupted with a shake of his head. _She was too young for this. _How had he managed it at her age? "Would you rather tell them they're dying? You can't save them, giving them some measure of comfort is the best you can offer before they pass on." _

The next day she'd used her mind jutsu on a corpse. She didn't hear anything on her first try, much to her father's relief. It was at the second training session, surrounded by the sterile smell of Konoha's largest hospital, that she talked to a dead man. He had been a student majoring in cardiology, who, in his young passion for science, had signed release forms on his body years before he fell to a heart attack (yeah, life got a kick out of irony). Going through his mind had been as intimate an experience as it'd been a disturbing one-like sex for the first time. Both had made her cry. She had seen all his hopes and dreams; everything that was special to him, that made him. She sifted though slideshows of his life, of his childhood, of hot summer days spent with his brothers, of his mother's smile, his father's pride when he was accepted into medical school, of all the people he loved, of the first time he met his fiancé. His last thoughts were for her, for Jenna. She'd never forget her name; she was there when Ino stumbled through the door. Their eyes locked; hers red with grief, Ino's red with pain, guilt, and things she couldn't understand at fifteen.

In a voice tempered by training, she whispered to Izanagi what she had said to the med student: _You're okay. Just close your eyes and fall asleep_; just like her father had taught her. The shudder of his breath quieted and she was able to find his last memory. There was no sound for it, that part of his mind was too far gone, but this would have to do.

She watched a man through foggy glass, his features blurry, lips difficult to read as he spoke, pulling something from the jounin vest he wore. Her eyes-Izanagi's eyes-strayed to the hitai-ate on his leg, the symbol distorted but almost legible. _Rain_, she felt Izanagi identify.

Her-Izanagi's-hand shot out, coming into her field of vision. There was fear, the rush of blood and adrenaline. Despair trailed closely behind.

The other man laughed, chest moving up and down, mouth wide open in a twisted smile: the action jolted her-jolted Izanagi. In his right hand, the man held a weapon she'd never seen before, all black metal worked into an angle. Confusion flittered to her: Izanagi didn't know it either. She couldn't understand how the Rain shinobi made it work, but suddenly there was pain ripping through her chest. The ground rose up to meet her head; light faded from the world. She felt herself slipping away from the memory and back into the mine shaft. But she was going the wrong way, drifting further from the anchor that was her body. There was fire in her heart and the recollection of names that weren't known to her, of the faces of a family that wasn't hers. For a moment, she didn't remember who Ino was. The name tasted foreign to her, unlike the picture of a smiling girl with bows in her brown hair; that was familiar, familiar like the woman who swung her into her arms, like the old ballad that was playing around her, soundless yet still heard.

_"Since the day I met you,"_

_Ino_

_Ino_

She turned her head.

_"From the moment I saw you,"_

_Ino_

The song was reaching it's peak, the voice of a man drowning her with images of a wedding, of a bride smiling and calling her for a dance, her lips moving with the lyrics of the song.

"_There was no one but you;"_

_INO!_

_"Not a one to compare."_

_INO!_

New pain clawed at the melody of the song and the vision of an autumn wedding. She was launched backwards, yanked by silver threads from the narrowing tunnel.

"_And I love you."_

The little girl. Her family.

_"Forever and forever."_

_Wait!_

She struggled against the threads, against their pull. She couldn't leave them! This was her family!

"_And I love you."_

The little girl! Her little girl!

_Rika!_

_"Forever and forever."_

_"_INO!"

Sound, real sound, shrieked against her eardrums.

"INO!"

Her eyes peeled open, shapes spinning into focus. Sakura's face was looming over her, forest and sky beyond. She leaned back with a sigh, patting Ino's head.

"Gave us one hell of a scare, you idiot."

A hand helped her sit up. Another pushed a canteen to her lips gently. She felt genuine pain in her chest, her own pain.

"I nearly had to restart your heart."

Her head moved towards Sakura's voice, "what?"

"you practically died, you moron. What the hell were you thinking staying linked to a dead man for so long!"

"I," her mouth hung open, "I got lost," she whispered.

"I've called your name so many times there's no point in using your alias anymore."

Ino had neither the energy nor the heart to be angry at Sakura for nagging. She could hear the fear in her voice.

She grasped her friend's shoulder with a smile, "thanks."

"Don't be so grateful," Sakura sighed, "I only saved you cuz Shika would have killed me."

Ino scoffed, "yeah, yeah,"

Hirosaki squatted next to her, forearms resting over her thighs. "What did you see?" She asked without delay, bringing the mission back to the forefront with an efficiency that some might call callous.

Ino's face changed again, "It was some strange weapon. The other shinobi, maybe from Rain, didn't even move, but just like that," she almost said _I_, before quickly backpedaling, "he was dead."

Hirosaki's expression remained neutral, even through Sakura's statement.

"He was a special jounin. It shouldn't have been that easy to kill him."

Ino's answer carried a hint of bitterness, memories of a wife, a child, a life, lacing her tone with venom. "Well, whatever did him in, seemed to have no problem."

* * *

Hyuga Neji was wrapped up in shadows when he arrived.

"Its about time."

The Rain kunoichi dropped from the canopy, her hair whispering to a quiet fall around pale shoulders. "You've kept me waiting for nearly two hours."

Neji observed her arrogantly, the gleam of his white eyes shining like pearls through the darkness of night. He cared very little for this woman or her problems. She was a means to an end; he let her know it. "You'll wait as long as it takes." Ignoring the hardening of her gaze, he continued, "Your payment is on its way to Rain. The final installment will be withheld until we see results."

"He will not be pleased with that," she finished with a curl of her lips, perversely placated by the thought of Kobayashi's retribution.

Lines carved themselves between his eyebrows. "My uncle does not take threats lightly, much less failure. It is his displeasure you should concern yourself with. Tell this to Kobayashi: no results, no payment."

Her next words forced his lips into a tight-lined frown, "The Hyuga have much less power than you think and much more to loose if we take action against you." Before the echo of her voice had died to a whimper of wind, she disappeared, but the triumph of her smile stayed with Neji long after he slipped through Konoha's gates. His uncle was playing with fire and sooner rather than later, Neji thought, they would all get burned.

From its place against the sky, a bird-feathers the texture and color of ink-watched as Hyuga Neji crossed the threshold into his clan's compound.

* * *

_Friend_. The word had a foreign taste. He wasn't a man used to friends. Allies, yes; acquaintances, a few; enemies, undoubtedly; but friends, no. There was only one person he'd ever pegged that word to-and currently his bones were rotting under sacred soil. It was stupid of him to have thought, even briefly, that two air-headed ANBU could count as friends.

_Trust no one but yourself_.

It was a rule he'd learned in Sound; a useful lesson that had kept him alive more times than he could count.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Sasuke didn't turn his head: he knew the voice. He'd read her chakra signature the minute she stepped onto the training grounds.

With fluid movements, Sakura seated herself beside him; a good distance away, yet not too far, he noted with a sidelong glance. Her left leg was stretched out away from her, the other bent at the knee as a table for her elbow.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. They watched instead, the way the wind wove through the trees and brushed the grass, stirring up dirt from bald patches. Sakura wasn't too uncomfortable with the silence, it was Sasuke after all, and if she had ever understood him as a child, she would have known that soundless moments were best by him. It was ironic that she came to know him-however tentatively-when she had no interest in him. It was also ironic, and very much in character with him, that he would choose such an opportune moment to turn her newfound knowledge on its head.

"Would you say we're friends?"

Sakura's head snapped to the side, eyebrows high on her forehead as she stared at him. If it hadn't been for the dull monotony of his tone, she would have thought him a clone. "Excuse me?"

"Friendship." He repeated nonchalantly, "Yoshida was talking about it." Sasuke would not admit to asking the question directly, but he wanted to hear her answer nonetheless, and attributing it to Yoshida was the only way he could think of disassociating himself.

She moved her gaze away from his face, stunned by his question. "Would the answer matter to you?"

His shoulders moved casually, "I don't know what matters to me." Nothing beyond the murder of his family, the death of his brother, or the instinct to draw breath held his attention for long.

"Then no." She said flatly. "No, I don't think we're friends. I don't think we were ever friends."

Had she asked him the same thing, it was the answer he would have given. "You've changed."

Sakura flicked her eyes to him in irritation. "Yeah, you mentioned that. It happens, part of the whole 'growing up thing.' Why? Did I hurt your feelings?" She half mocked.

Sasuke ignored her barb, throwing her off balance with another question.

"Tell me, what makes a friend."

His flat tone held more command than inquiry, and his words were strung together with the efficiency of men used to having their way. How appropriate. Passing a quick hand through her bangs, to keep them away from her eyes, Sakura leaned back. "Are you trying for a philosophy degree?"

When Sasuke didn't answer, she gave thought to what he had said. "What made Naruto your friend?"

He gazed back at her lazily, before returning his sight to the sky, as if he could read from the blue of late spring his answer. "I don't know."

"You don't know," Sakura repeated. She nodded, squaring her shoulders, "well then, you're a worse human being than I originally thought." When her muscles tensed, ready to lift her from her seat, Sasuke's voice held her.

"He was always there."

She paused, halfway off the ground, before looking over at him and settling back down. "That's a start."

"He tried to help me where he could."

She waited for him, her silence demanding more.

"He was loyal to me."

Sakura wrinkled her nose, "are you describing Naruto or a dog?"

That brought a whisper of a smirk to his face, "both."

She laughed, a short ring of air through her throat. The sound made him turn towards her. He couldn't remember what her laugh sounded like when they were children, only that it had set his nerves into a tangle of angry energy. This sound, though, wasn't nearly as annoying.

"A friend," she finally conceded, tilting her face to her lap, where her hand was picking at the hem of her tan skirt, the skin of her thighs tempting his stare almost as strongly as her words, "is someone who likes spending time with you. They like talking to you, they defend you when someone speaks ill of you, they consider your happiness, they protect you, they understand you, they stand by you. A friend, is someone who cares for you."

Such a precise list; a simple, short, prettily organized package of requirements. "That makes a friend?"

"Among _many_ other things."

_Of course,_ he thought, _there's always more_.

With the deliberate flick of her wrist, she brought her hand out in front of her, "you see that spot over there?"

He followed the line of her finger.

"That's where we shared our lunch with Naruto that first day we trained with Kakashi, even though he said we'd get in trouble."

She waited for the memories to crush her, for the aching black hole in her heart to rip to life. But it stayed dormant, even as the image of a hungry twelve-year old flipped to the forefront of her mind. She smiled, a small flick of the corners of her mouth, savoring the memory, happy that it didn't hold the bitter undertone of pain.

"That was the start of us, I like to think. The start of our friendship, although it took a really long time for it to happen, and" she added, meeting his eyes briefly, "it didn't take with you and me."

A flicker of humor entered his gaze, though he still wasn't looking at her. "Maybe because you always tried to steal a look at my ass."

At his side, he caught her lips parting into a half "o", her expression surprised.

Sakura opened her mouth wider, then closed it again, then finally settled on opening it, "you just made a joke. What next, tap-dancing?"

A part of him had hoped to make her laugh, test if the sound of it made him think of bamboo chimes or shuriken grating stone-as it once had. But she didn't, and he turned his thoughts elsewhere.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

He caught her question with an off-hand hum.

Dusting the seat of her skirt as she stood, Sakura moved further into the field, stopping ten feet away from him. She tossed the words over her shoulder, "If one day, you show me that you've earned the faith Naruto had in you, then I think we could be friends."

It was a faint offering reaching out with hesitant hands.

_One day_. _One day_; maybe by then he'd believe friendship was possible again. But now, he wasn't sure what he believed in, so he kept his tone neutral, "hn."

It wasn't a "yes," but it wasn't a "no" either. He'd make up his mind _one day_. For now, though, he'd stick to what he knew: he caught Kakashi's kunai before it could lodge itself in his throat. Effortlessly rising to his feet, he waited, looking towards the silver hair of his ex-sensei.

It was Sakura who set the terms. Pulling on a pair of black gloves that had seen better days, she twisted to him and Kakashi with a sadistic smile. "How about some sparring? Looser buys lunch."

He didn't have trouble with this answer.

* * *

The sound of hollow metal echoed softly through the room. She watched the capsules fall like coins, clinging off one another, jumping to a chaotic stop over her desk or rolling to the floor with a faint _clang._

Tsunade looked at Shikamaru's outstretched hand, where an empty box was overturned.

"What are they?" She asked, taking one of the polished capsules between thumb and forefinger.

"Bullets."

Her eyes found his, question written in the amber of her irises, "come again?"

Shikamaru placed the box on the desk lightly, slouching his back, "they're called bullets. One of them was what killed the jounin found by Hirosaki's team."

Tsunade was irked that in several decades of existence, travel, and experience, she'd never heard of them, "what do they do?"

He thought an analogy could explain it best, "they're like arrows. Except faster."

Arrows_,_ Tsunade mused, couldn't launch themselves. "Then where's the bow?"

Tsunade turned her head at the heavy thud to her right. Shikamaru's hand was wrapped around a black UW. "Right here."

Impatience registered on the Hokage's face: she set her irritated stare on him "get to the point, Nara."

"This," he phrased, moving his hand, "is a gun. Also harmless in itself. But," and here he picked up a capsule, putting it into-Tsunade was at a loss for words-_something_, a reel in the _gun,_ "when you combine the two," Shikamaru aimed the weapon towards the roof, "you get an explosive combination."

The noise that followed was a blast of sound waves so powerful they physically hurt. Tsunade slapped her hands over her ears, but the damage was already done, she could hear nothing but the monstrous clap of thunder for a full second, followed, for most of the meeting, by a dull ring.

Shikamaru shook from his stance, lowering the gun as powder fell from the ceiling onto his head. ANBU poured into the room, materializing from the very air, sliding through windows, slipping through the double doors. A wall of human flesh surrounded Tsunade, and it was only her dismissive wave that stopped Shikamaru-already pushed against the floor-from getting a nasty blow to the base of his neck. The watchdogs left when her safety was confirmed, after roughhousing the tactics specialist for his stunt. Then the roar of her voice dominated her office.

"What the hell where you thinking!" She screamed at him, rising to her full height.

He looked back with bored eyes that held just a hint of _oops. _He rubbed his bruised wrists, "I was giving you a demonstration, Hokage-sama."

"Don't Hokage-sama me!" she accused with a wild pitch to her voice, finally dropping back into her seat. _Stupid kids are going to be the death of me_. Her heated glare turned to the tiny hole in her ceiling, where plaster was crumbling to the ground. That, she decided, would come from his paycheck.

"How do they work?"

He laid the gun over the surface of her desk, followed warily by Tsunade's gaze, "we're figuring out the mechanics, what we do know, is that they use black powder and they don't need a drop of chakra."

Black powder? "They're mimicking fireworks?"

Shikamaru nodded, "they may have been created by Rock, a run-off, so to speak, of their firework industry."

Arms crossed, Tsunade stared at him. "Is any skill needed to use them?"

"Not much. Good marksmanship is ideal, but its not hard to learn and not completely necessary."

"And," Tsunade considered her question carefully, thinking back to the demonstration. She hadn't seen Shikamaru move, she hadn't seen the capsule-_bullet_, she corrected-exit the weapon, "how fast are they?"

Now his face darkened. Eyes unwavering, voice with the slightest hint of interest, "faster than anyone we've got."

Her next question was anticipated and the answer fell from his lips almost before she had asked. "Faster than the sharingan?"

"Yes."

Their breaths were the only thing to stir the air of her office. Heartbeat more agitated than she wanted, Tsunade fixed her attention on the papers scattered over her desk, ignoring the glint of bullets mixed between them, "clean up this mess and bring me a full report of your investigation. I want this made into first priority."

Shikamaru had barely closed the door behind him, when her next summons came lumbering through the window.

"Where'd you get the bruises from?" She wondered if he would ever stop by her office without looking black and blue.

Kakashi dropped into the upholstered chair, grunting when his tailbone took too much pressure. "Sasuke and Sakura. We had a match."

Tsunade glanced up with a smug grin, "and so the teacher becomes the student. They too much for you to handle?" She leaned back into her seat, "you're getting old, Kakashi."

_Look who's talking_.

Reading his face, her eyes narrowed in warning, "careful, Kakashi."

His hands flew up, "I didn't say anything, Hokage-sama." His mask twitched with a smile as she harrumphed with the agitation of a bristled hen.

Seriousness returned to her face easily as her gaze wandered to the hole in her ceiling. A quick flick of his eye found the direction of her fixed stare.

"Doing some remodeling?"

"Hatake, what did you find?"

Kakashi stood grudgingly from his seat, pulling a slip from his pocket, he spread it out before her.

The crest of the Hyuga clan stood starkly against the white sheet.

"Their seal was all over the money used to pay for the UWs."

"Guns," she responded automatically, continuing when his eyebrow rose in question, "they're not unidentified weapons anymore. They're called guns and the things they shoot are bullets. Like bows and arrows," she repeated dryly.

"By the cheerfulness of your tone, I'm guessing they're a lot harder to dodge than bows and arrows."

Her answer was a reluctant nod of her head, blond hair swishing.

"Even for Uchiha specialties?"

Hard amber met his gaze, "yes."

There was a crinkling around his eyes that signaled a smile, "Ah, it's always uplifting when I find something else that can kill me."

"Hatake," Tsunade addressed him quietly-always a bad sign for a woman that was festival drums and firecrackers, "how sure are you of this information?"

Despite the seal that hummed around them, he turned away from the window, not trusting the ease with which he spied a woman moving through her apartment. If he could see out, anyone could see in. "Their clan," he avoided the name, "has over six million ryo-all with their seal stamped straight into the gold-linked to the purchase of the UWs and the payment of the mercenaries who killed the Daimyo's son. It's a strong connection, and my sources are first-hand Hokage-sama. Sai is also confirming what I've found."

Her face turned to him, brow wrinkling quizzically, "Sai?"

"He's taken an interest in the case, for personal reasons."

An unspoken message passed between them.

"I want you at the head of the investigation, take on who you see fit, but keep them in the dark. Tell me what's being planned, what or who's being bought, and who's getting the guns. I want every scrap of information on this. Oh, and Kakashi,"

His form was curled over the window, hands holding onto the frame, legs coiled, ready to spring from the ledge, "Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"Keep Sakura off this case."

"Hai."

Tsunade threw herself into her seat with an angry hiss, hand coming up to rub her temples. She was familiar with that "_hai."_ It meant that her order had gone in one ear and straight out the other. That damn bastard was going to ignore her again.

* * *

The keys in her hand were swinging side-to-side, clattering in the quiet of the afternoon. The crash of a broken window, followed promptly by the wail of an alarm, joined the noise. By now, she was used to it. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Sakura moved closer to her house. That's when she felt it: the humming chakra signatures of two civilians. Looking towards her doorstep gave her feet a reason to root themselves in the sidewalk. There, standing warily and looking ready to leave, was Akira's wife, baby hanging from the swing across her shoulder.

They regarded each other silently, the width of pavement and concrete closed by their stares. When the smallest of smiles touched Yukari's face, Sakura moved forward, climbing the steps to her home slowly.

"I was just about to leave," Yukari whispered, her voice as soft as it had always been.

Sakura cleared her throat, twisting the lock and pushing open the door. "My neighborhood tends to scare people off. Would you come in?"

That seemed to be what she was waiting for. Relief loosened her shoulders. "Yes, thank you."

"Have a seat wherever you like," Sakura said, toeing off her shoes. "I'll make some tea."

Moving into the living room, Yukari eased into a recliner, sitting rigidly at the very edge as if afraid of disturbing the upholstery. Her eyes touched the pictures on the wall, the remnants of Naruto's things. Sakura pretended not to see the way she lingered over them. This was why she never brought people home. This was her sanctuary, or her tomb, her and Naruto's.

"You have a lovely home," Yukari called to her.

Sakura nodded her thanks with a forced smile, setting down a tray with two cups, a teapot, and some teacakes.

The clattering of metal against ceramic filled the awkward silence between them.

Bringing her cup away from her lips, Yukari spoke first. What she said had Sakura snapping her gaze to her. "Would you like to hold him?" Her left arm, where Hiroaki was nestled, moved slightly.

"I-" Sakura stuttered, "I don't know how."

Yukari plucked the baby from his cradle gently and moved to her. Sakura tensed, reluctantly putting out her arms.

"No," Yukari chided softly. "Like this." With one hand, she fixed Sakura's arms, easing Hiroaki into them with ease. "Hold his head," she motioned, her headscarf falling over the baby, who reached for the colors of it with a gurgling noise. "There, just like that." She smiled, taking a step back.

Sakura, lips slightly open, held him with two parts fear and one part wonder. The weight of the baby was warm, easy to handle, but so delicate to her mind that she couldn't fathom holding him for long. Uncomfortable with the responsibility cradled in her arms, she moved to return him, but stopped when his eyes snapped to her. They stole the breath right from her lungs. Exactly like Akira…yet not. There was all the gentleness without any hardness-pure to the core. The soft gaze was open, slightly unfocused, and half-lidded with sleepy curiosity at this new face he was watching. A lock of pink hair turned his stare away from her, interest coloring his expression, Hiroaki tried to snatch at it, missing twice before his tiny fist curled over it.

Naruto would have loved him.

"He's wonderful, isn't he?"

Sakura looked at Yukari, smiling "yes, he is. He looks just like his father."

Yukari took him back into his sling. "I know. He'll be eight months old soon."

Pouring her more tea, Sakura nodded, "he's gotten so much bigger."

A soft laugh rang from her, "you have no idea."

Sakura saw the weary lines of sleeplessness etched into her cheeks. She saw the ways Yukari had aged-though it had been less than a year since Akira's passing. She saw the dimmed glow of her gaze. She saw a wife, now widowed, she saw a child, now fatherless, she saw a mother, now alone. She wished it had been her. She wished, as she had so many times before, that it had been Akira who made it back. Hisao, Ichirou, and her had all agreed, he had the most to loose. He had people waiting for his return, relying on it, relying on him. He had people who needed him. What did she have? A gravesite to visit regularly and a bunch of ghosts to keep her company. Yet, here she was. Alive, breathing, and returning to a world that didn't need her as much as it had her teammates. Here she was, while Yukari raised her child by herself, while Hisao's sister worked two shifts to forget, while Ichirou's father wandered the halls of an empty house. "Yukari-san, I-"

"I'm sorry." Yukari said before her. "For blaming you," she added, face serious, apologetic. "It was unfair of me and childish. I was just"-here she set down her tea, gripping her skirt with both hands-"just _so angry_. Angry at everything; at Heaven, at Konoha, at ANBU, at the Hokage, at you."

"You don't have to-"

"Apologize?" Yukari cut her off. "Yes I do." Her hand played with the fingers of Hiroaki's, eyes downcast, she continued. "I was so wrong to hold you to an impossible promise, when you yourself nearly died, when there was nothing you could have done." She faltered for a moment, her next words coming with hesitancy, with fear, with some embarrassment at the accusation she might be raising. "There _was_ nothing you could have done, right? You didn't leave him, did you?"

"No," Sakura shook her head. "No. I swear to you," she gripped Yukari's free hand, voice like glass, "that I would have done anything to get him home."

Yukari's head bobbed up and down, eyes damp. "of course. I'm sorry." She breathed shakily, pressing her palm against the tears in her eyes. "Here I am, apologizing and then I ask you something like that. Its just-" Her chest wove up, then down with a broken sigh. "No one would tell me anything. Not what happened or how he died. I just want to put it behind me. Bury it and move on."

"I also want to thank you," Yukari began again, "for the money."

Sakura's gaze found hers. "When I went last month, to collect Akira's pension, the teller was new. I guess they hadn't told him that he had to combine your allowance into the total. He gave them to me separately." Yukari looked at her with a smile, "thank you. That money has really helped me."

Sakura took a sip of her tea, waiting for the rest.

"But it has to stop. I can't accept anymore Sakura-san. Its not right."

"Yukari-san," Sakura said. "Look around. What do you see?"

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I live in a two-bedroom townhouse in the middle of the second worst neighborhood in Konoha. I live alone, spend most of my time out on missions which means no utilities or groceries. My salary is more than enough to cover my expenses, definitely some of yours."

Yukari tucked a lock of brown hair under her scarf, "that isn't the point, Sakura-san. I can't accept your money-"

"Fine," Sakura said, waving her hand, "then I'll deposit it into an account for Hiroaki."

"Really, I can't-"

Sakura interrupted her one last time, "Yukari-san." Her voice was firm, yet it held a broken edge. "I made two promises to your family. One to you and one to your husband. I failed yours, please, please let me keep his. This is as much for me as it is for you."

The room was quiet while they waited. Yukari sat still, absentmindedly stroking the peach fuzz on her baby's head. "Hiroaki will need a college fund. Would you like to help me with that?"

"I'd be honored."

Yukari pulled on her lip before she spoke in her characteristically soft voice. "This means a lot to me."

Pink hair swaying, Sakura shook her head. "No, this," she said with a wave of her hand, "you coming here, means a lot to me."

That afternoon, after Yukari had left, her baby swinging on his sling, Sakura leaned her forehead against the door. She pulled in a lungful of air through her nose, then let it whisper out past her lips. She swore it was easier to breathe.

* * *

She had lost track of time. It happened back in _The_ _Beginning_, when this was all new; when time was the precise flow of ordered numbers. Now she had her own time system: there was _Before_ and then there was _After_: before her imprisonment and after her capture. She had subsections for the _after_ though, to keep things organized. At _The_ _Beginning_ she was still fighting, there was hope in her. She kept a tally of days scratched into the wall, she remembered thinking good, wholesome, positive thoughts. Then, in _The_ _Middle_ she started to forget the smell of grass. She knew it was supposed to be clean, damp, fresh, but without her noticing the memories became nothing more than adjectives, and adjectives couldn't take away the stench of hell from her nostrils. That's when she started to loose hope. Then, then there was just _Now_. _Now_ was a blurry swirl of immeasurable, unremarkable days. There were no mornings, there were no afternoons, there were no evenings; there was only her, a dark cell, the maddening drip of water, the smell of her latrine, the sound of footsteps against stone, the flickering of torchlight from underneath her door, and the mindless hours.

She hadn't moved much in a very long time. If she could think beyond what it took to eat and shit, she'd say she hadn't moved in days. Her legs were wet with what could only be urine, which was enough to tell her she hadn't cared to stand from her spot in a while. But these were observations she'd stopped making years ago. She hadn't had many conscious thoughts since _The Middle_. _Now_ had stripped her of speech, of mobility, of memories, of lucidity, of emotions, of humanity, and of everything else that had once made her a kunoichi of the Hidden Leaf.

* * *

Music pounded against the walls, bounced off glass, and reverberated through his chest. Sasuke narrowed his eyes, pupils contracting against the strobe lights that mixed noxiously with colored flashes of neon blue, pink, and green. Six neat lines of black lights hang in a guided path towards the bar. The white shirt he'd thrown on gleamed unnaturally in the hazy darkness. His bangs hung in his face as he turned to look down the crowded row of clubbers at the bar.

"I can't believe we got him to go with us!" Yuuto screamed from behind him, trying to be heard over the deafening noise.

"I know!" Daiki responded.

Ignoring them, Sasuke wove through elbows, shoulders, and sparsely covered breasts.

"Hey! Sasuke! Where's he going?"

Yuuto's answer, "-ably getting…drink!" was half lost to him, but he heard enough to know they would leave him be. The shock of red hair was hard to miss, even in the mess he was wading through. Pushing aside two inebriated girls, he slipped into the space next to her. Leaning casually against his forearms, he ordered a whiskey from the closest bartender.

"What did you find?"

Karen looked him over, head to toe, toe to head. "No hello for an old friend, Sasuke-kun?"

He glanced back at her, bored, then leaned close, trying to be heard over the noise without being overheard. "There are too many eyes watching me to play games now Karen."

Once, she might have felt a flutter at the way her name sounded from his lips, especially against the shell of her ear. Except now she was twenty-three and too calloused to be getting butterflies from a man who never paid her the time of day.

"Relax, Sasuke-kun. We've got a seal around us and there isn't a shinobi within thirty feet." She plucked an olive from her glass, swirling it through her drink with a stirrer. "He was dead when I got there," she added.

Sasuke gripped the whiskey in his hand, pushing some money towards the bartender. _Dead_. Something was definitely going on.

Karen bumped shoulders with him, moving her face closer to the side of his head, "there was something interesting, though."

He waited patiently, letting her have her fun, "the old man had some documents, from your brother's time. There was an order, I don't know what for, but it was some top-secret mission given to Itachi only months before the massacre."

"When?"

She brought the martini to her mouth, licking her lips, "April."

Three months before it happened.

"It looks like Konoha was trying to spy on your clan. My guess is they were up to something and the council was getting nervous. Itachi was ANBU wasn't he?" she said, knowing he was, "maybe they were afraid he was double-crossing them, so they gave him some big-ass mission to keep him busy while they figured what your clan was doing."

He relished the burn of whiskey in his throat, it offered a distraction from the questions circling his head. "Find Kisame, see what he knows."

Beside him, Karen sputtered, nearly backwashing into her drink, "are you trying to kill me! Kisame will tear my throat out before I get within talking distance of him."

That could be a possibility. But Karen, however clumsy she could be, knew how to keep herself alive. More importantly, Kisame wasn't working for Akatsuki anymore. "He's more interested in keeping his hide than tanning yours," he told her, "just see what you can find. He knows something that Akatsuki doesn't want him telling." Sasuke was sure that something was strongly tied to his brother.

"Fine." She bit off angrily, slapping her glass over the bar's bamboo countertop.

Sasuke was turning to leave, when her hand touched his elbow, "do you know about Juugo?"

He didn't look back, "yes."

There was accusation in her tone, "well, are you going to do anything?"

Its not like he could leave Konoha and chase after the man. Even if he could, he doubted he would. "What," he asked, looking at her flatly, "do you want me to do?"

Her gaze was wavering, "we're all he has."

"Our team was a business transaction, Karen. We don't owe each other anything."

Her lips pressed into a straight line, eyes boring into his for ten, unflinching seconds. Finally, she moved away, offering one last sentence before dissolving into the crowd, "yet here I am."

By the time Yuuto and Daiki had drifted back to him, Sasuke was ordering his fourth drink.

* * *

She could feel the music inside of her. Pushing through her skin, digging into the cavity of her chest. It bounced off the walls of her ribs and forced itself into the chambers of her heart, beating with it, in it, as strongly as it did around the club. Her heartbeat was a fast tempo, fused with the music and echoing within her. If the music stopped, would her heart stop too?

"You're drunk!"

Sakura looked at Ino over the rim of her glass. The blond was leaning heavily on Shikamaru who was looking between her dress-the daring red one she'd bought months ago-and the nearby men stealing glances.

"No, that's you!" She laughed, watching the stone-faced scowl on Shikamaru's face. _Guess he didn't like the dress._

"Come on!" she shouted over the new song, dragging Ino away from her boyfriend by the wrist. _Time to wipe that look off Shika's face._

Shikamaru yelled at her, probably to bring her back, but Sakura neither heard him, nor was sober enough to care. It registered that he was following them, as well as Lee-who had been on a mission to protect their chastity all night. She was glad Kiba and Chouji had stayed back at their table with Tenten and Hinata. Even for a kunoichi, this place was wild.

Sakura edged herself into a corner of the dance floor, far from the eyes of her friends and from the hands that tended to wander too easily at clubs. She started to move, swinging her hips and throwing her arms over her head. She wasn't nearly as sensual as Ino, nor as bold, but that was fine for tonight, because tonight she was very close to being drunk. The rhythm blaring over the subwoofers intensified, trapping her heart into a deep, fast beat. From the corner of her eye, Sakura watched Ino wave a finger at Shikamaru. His irritation melted into nothing when she pressed herself against him. Then his blank face turned red. Sakura paused in her dance, laughing as she snuck away from them, noticing that Shika's hands were stealing touches she didn't want to catch. Mission accomplished. Slipping by Lee's defenses-currently occupied with some random brunette-she twisted to her left, dancing her way half-heartedly back to her table, then her right, and then straight into someone's chest.

"Sorry." She said, twisting her head up. She was met with a flustered looking Uchiha, who was holding her arm above the elbow and looking down the plunging neckline of her teal dress. Ino's idea, not hers.

"Sasuke," She shouted over the noise, snapping her fingers under his nose.

His eyes found hers, hand dropping away quickly. His features rearranged themselves into his classic, guarded smirk. "Nice dress."

Two can play that game. "Yes, I gathered from your stare."

When his face sobered, a hint of annoyance and embarrassment behind black pupils, she decided to give him a break, "what are you doing here?"

He walked past her, yelling a response over the top of his shoulder, "getting away from my guards."

Following him-to the bar, she guessed-she twisted her eyebrows. "I thought your guards were out of sight now."

"Not these."

"Oh!" Her face lit up with a wicked grin, "you mean those ANBU kids?"

He threaded himself between people, not waiting for her. She had to double her pace to keep up. _Here's to one who'll never be chivalrous._

_"_Are you following me?"

Sakura stared up at him, mouth open, eyes round and wide. Had she heard him right? "Excuse me?", she stuttered.

A hint of amusement touched his gaze. "Never mind. What will you have?" His hand waved at the liquor behind the bar, packed tightly together like books in a bibliophile's office.

She felt like walking away. Its not as if she had any business with him. But a drink was a drink, even if he wasn't paying. "Get me a Suicide."

The thin line of his eyebrow rose sharply at her order. With a smirk, he flagged a bartender.

* * *

That dress was scandalous; a flimsy thing that was more skin than cloth. It was sinfully inappropriate that he liked it. Or maybe it was sinfully normal. Stone-hearted or not, he was still a man, with a pulse-and more than enough hot blood speeding through his veins. If he wanted to, he could stare down the valley of her breasts, follow the milky path between soft, curving flesh and spot the fine baby down that peppered her belly. He never thought he'd see the day when that would be a positive. Fucking hell, he was checking her out. He was checking out Haruno Sakura. He was also buzzed, and probably high, whether from someone meddling with his drink or the adverse combination of antipsychotics and alcohol. Maybe even both. Sakura, he noted, wasn't doing much better. It was a small miracle she had ordered an appetizer for them.

"Stop staring," She said. "Your turn."

Sasuke reached for the glass in her outstretched hand. It was their third Suicide; by now he wasn't sure how long they'd been playing Truth, just that they weren't thoroughly smashed, but close enough for loose tongues. "When I was five, I tried to throw a kunai without anyone's help. I nearly killed my aunt's pedigree cat." He brought the drink to his lips and knocked down a swallow. The mix of whiskey, gin, rum, sake, triple sec, and tonic burned his throat like moonshine and kerosene. "What was the dumbest thing you did as a genin?"

Sakura put a hand to her chin, tapping her index finger against her bottom lip. Like a magnet, his eyes fixed on her mouth; they parted, forming the shape for the word _I_, said too softly for him to catch over the blaring music. "I hid in a tree during training and forgot to mask my chakra."

Bangs swinging to the side, Sasuke shook his head, "Liar."

With a long sigh, she snatched the glass from his hand and tipped it back with a grimace. Mouth and eyes still screwed shut with the taste, she exhaled with a smack of lips, "The dumbest thing I did as a genin was getting caught in my own genjutsu. I nearly got the client, and yours truly, killed." Her hair had fallen from the barrette beside her ear, sliding forward to hang across the side of her face. The sudden urge to touch it barreled to the forefront of his mind. Before he could stop himself, he was feeling strands of it. She stayed still, looking between the lock he fingered, and his face (a picture of stoic interest). Languidly, he drew his hand up her jaw, tucking the strand behind her ear. He lingered there, watching her eyes, then, expression blank, leaned back. "Sasuke-"

"Next question." He interrupted.

She tilted forward in her chair, gripping the top of the glass with five fingers spread across the rim. She could still feel where his skin brushed her jaw, the shiver it sent through her spine. She could especially feel the burn of his eyes on her. _Dangerous thoughts, Sakura. _The Suicide sloshed side to side, ice clinking as it dangled before her knees. Finally, she asked: "There was a rumor back in our academy days that you liked girls with long hair. Did you?"

The thick air around them lightened with his snort, "I didn't care either way."

That was certainly in character. "Truth."

Sasuke reclined into the upholstered chair. "What was the worst part of your ANBU test?"

The memory of that day lived vividly within her. She bowed her head, staring at the drink in her grip. "They use genjutsu to torture us; see how we hold up under pain. They show us things too, fears, regrets, nightmares. They showed me Naruto's death."

He didn't have a response to that.

It was a long while before she spoke again. Head finally coming up, bangs falling away from her face, she asked her next question. "What is it" she said so softly that he had to read her lips, "you see in the hallucinations?"

His stare, which had been intense, but calm, sharpened. He sucked in a breath of stale air, drawing in smoke, heat, and cigarettes deep into his lungs. Sakura guessed she had crossed a line, that even buzzed as they were it wasn't enough to get him talking so easily. He proved her wrong. "I see him."

Sakura watched Sasuke warily, catching the slight tightening of his jaw, the rise of tendons on his wrist when he formed a fist.

"I see his death," he continued, never breaking away from her eyes, "I see his eyes coming at me from the ground, I see his corpse, I see him in the frame of some stranger, I see my sword rip into his stomach, I see the red of his sharingan or the black of his hair, I see men in long cloaks and confuse them with him, I see him the night he killed my family, I see blood on the floors or walls, I see my mother lying dead, I see my family murdered, I see the blood on his hands or the blood on mine. Anything and everything about him or my family, that's what I see."

They were quiet for ten heartbeats, the pounding of music, the clambering of voices, filling the void. She took another sip of her drink. Then he stood and, without a single glance back at her, walked out into the night.

Air, pure and fresh, smacked against him. The chaos from the club slipped away with the click of a door; sound, lights, and smoke tucked neatly behind black glass. Only the muted _thump_ of the subwoofers bled into the quiet-that and the tap of her heels against brick.

He sat on the curb, resting his elbows on his knees, ignoring her.

Without hesitation or protocol, she plucked the jacket that hang crookedly from his shoulder and spread it over the dirty sidewalk. She settled beside him, legs together, bent only the slightest bit at the knee.

"When Naruto died, I thought I'd never see him again. But he was everywhere. I saw him in our home, on the street, at the hospital, on missions. I could hear him, hear his voice or his laugh, the whisper of his words against my ear. I could _feel_ his breath, feel his touch, or his presence. Sometimes he'd tell me things; that he loved me or that he missed me." She took a breath, neither deep nor shallow, hasty nor slow. It was the normal inhale of balmy air; a pause in her conversation.

Sasuke waited for her to continue, not interested in rushing what she had to say, or contributing to her words.

"On that mission, where my team died, he talked to me then too. He made me fight to get home, he guided me back when I got lost, he helped me find food, he showed me where the plants I needed for my wounds were. He gave me strength. And when I died in the O.R., when I finally thought _I can be with him, everything can be right again, _he pushed me away because I had a life to live, no matter what I thought."

He moved his head in her direction, expression carefully guarded.

"What I'm saying," she continued, her hand reaching towards his hesitantly "is that you're here, regardless of the "how's," or "why's," you're alive, and you have to make the best of that." She gave his hand a light squeeze, before moving her arm away.

He stared at the place where her hand had curved over his; small, calloused, fingers bending gently underneath his palm and thumb. "What does it matter being alive, if you can't live." There was no question in his tone, only the subtle dejection of defeat, of exhaustion.

A wizened smile curled her lips, "It matters, because we have the chance to fix that, the responsibility to. The dead don't."

"The dead have few responsibilities."

_"_Yes, and fewer choices." She turned her head to him. "A crappy trade off, don't you think?"

_Depends on the day. _He could still feel her touch on his skin when he looked at her. "Do you still see him?"

The green of her eyes dimmed with his question. "Feel more than see. Its not as frequent or vivid anymore." The last time she'd felt Naruto had been a fortnight ago, when the whisper of his hand on her cheek had been air to a drowning man. Her private moments with him were becoming few and far between. They were rarer with each passing month, and weaker too. She wondered if her sightings were more than twisted imagination, if some of them were real, if Naruto had ever really come to her. She wondered if the fading visions were because Naruto was ready to cross over. "I'm afraid," she admitted quietly, "that once he stops coming to me, I'll loose him for good."

His voice when he spoke was firm, factual, although not cruel. "You've already lost him." He told her, his eyes resolutely focused on the distant darkness. "But you won't stop feeling him. You never stop feeling them."

The sound of night hung over them, a moonless sky for telling secrets.

"Sasuke?"

"Ah."

The green of her eyes searched through the black of his. A smile, as timid as spring buds reaching from their branches, touched her face. "Thank you."

* * *

"Hello, Hag."

She was facing the water, her back to him, forearms resting on the veranda. At the sound of his voice, she turned slightly, face casual. "Hello, Sai."

He fell into step beside her, offering a shallow smile.

"How late do you think he'll be?" She asked, keeping her eyes on the river.

The sun had risen over four hours ago and now the water was crystalline with the overhead light. Soon, it would be noon and the heat would be unbearable. A hesitant breeze, pulling from the ground the last cool wisps of spring, stirred sticky air. Today was a poor day for sparring. Even the wind was reluctant.

"Late enough for heatstroke."

He heard her sigh, an exasperated, over-acted huff of her breath. "I don't know why we bother to be here early."

Picking at the chipped paint of the wood, he glanced at her, "its not for the company."

A second after the drop of her jaw, her arm snagged the edge of his head. "Its too hot for this." She whined, wiping the back of her neck. Back curved over the edge, she leaned into the railing. "The first sweltering day of the year. Kinda makes it appropriate that the festival's this week."

Blue eyes flashed through his mind, the curl of short, blond hair spilling around them, framing a dazzling smile. It was the only time he'd heard her laugh, seen that sort of smile. He would see her soon.

A hand, waving under his nose, forced his gaze back. Sakura was looking at him through big, green eyes, one eyebrow lifted in question. "What?"

"What?" She repeated sarcastically. "That's my line. What's up with that grin you were wearing?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"You were grinning like an idiot, some love-sick-" Her words cut off as the revelation struck her. A sly smile wrapped around her lips, "Let me guess. She's blond, pretty, and from Sound."

The last part was said with some reluctance, but he brushed it aside. He didn't need her approval. Which is why he wasn't afraid of what he told her next. "I'm going to see her during the festival."

Her voice rose an octave, "you're what!"

Calmly, he repeated himself, if only to frustrate her. "I'm meeting her during the festival."

"Yes, I heard that!" She half whispered, half screeched. "What I want to know is how!"

It wasn't rocket science. "We set up a meeting point. I'll see her there."

Sakura watched him, then the water for a moment. "Sai, how far is this meeting place from the village?"

He heard the question in her tone, remembered the cardinal rule of hidden villages: _Never compromise the location._ "Its far enough."

The touch of her hand guided his gaze to her. Gently, she gripped the underside of his elbow, "Sai, I just want you to be careful, alright." She wanted to tell him more. To tell him to guard his heart; that this girl could be dangerous; that she could be playing him. But there was a set to his jaw that told her not to push it. He wouldn't welcome her worries. Which meant that Sai was falling hard for the Sound kunoichi.

"I've got some news for you," he voiced, changing the subject, lightly pulling her arm away.

"Its about what you asked me."

He saw he shoulders tense, but she kept her gaze steady, her breath easy.

"What about it?"

They both looked out over the river, her watching a leaf swirling through the current, him piecing his words together. When the buzz of her chakra fitted itself around them, he said it.

"The Hyuga are involved in something."

Her eyes, wide with surprise, flitted to him. She expected an individual, some random name from the department, but a clan? The _Hyuga_ clan? _Hinata. _Less than two weeks ago she had shared a table with her, had drinks with her, talked and laughed with her. Sakura trusted Hinata. _She couldn't have, not her. _And Neji! He wasn't her friend, but she'd grown up with him, known him when he was still a child practicing his aim. She felt her stomach recoil within her, throat closing against the urge to gag.

"They've traded information with a high nobleman from Rain, who had strong connections to their kage. Its also likely that they're behind Rain's military purchases. Part of their spending money is coming straight from the Hyuga's coffers."

Sakura dug her fingernails into the guardrail, old paint crackling and chipping under her grip. "Does Tsuande-shiso know?"

"She's aware."

"Do you think," She began, eyes distant, voice carefully controlled, "that they…that they had anything to do with my team's murder?"

Sai had been after that answer for months. "I haven't gotten a hold of the information they've exchanged. But, it is possible. Many of the Hyuga work for ANBU and they have more than enough resources."

Her breathing was still carefully controlled, but her heartbeat pounded viciously against her chest. "Hinata and Neji. Do they know?"

The pause he gave curled the hair at the nape of her neck, "The heiress, as far as I'm aware, is clean, but her cousin is up to his neck in this."

She felt relief-and anger. Neji. If it was him…she would tear him apart. She'd fought side-by-side with that bastard, shed blood for him. Sai must have felt the hatred in her aura because he gripped her shoulder. "I don't have enough evidence, Sakura. For all I know this could be clan business. Don't do anything stupid."

She nodded rigidly, taking a deep breath. Her traitor would hang, but Sai was right, she needed proof before he did.

"I have access to ANBU's archives the night of the festival. I have a graveyard shift to guard them. I'll see what I can find."

Looking briefly at her, he cautioned her against it. "Be careful."

"_You_ be careful," she snorted. "I know the festival will lessen security at the archives, but the gates and perimeters will probably be doubly monitored."

Before he could answer with an insult, Kakashi appeared, wisps of a transportation jutsu still clinging to his shoulders.

"Yo." He waved.

"You're late." They both accused.

One hand touching the back of his head, he smiled sheepishly, eyes crinkling, "there was a cat-" he began.

"Who was stuck in a tree, over a waterfall, sixty kilometers away." They finished, walking past him to the training fields. Sakura's hand snagged the collar of his jacket, dragging him behind.

* * *

"I'm reducing your prescription."

Sasuke, back to him, continued staring out the window. There was no guard hanging from the ledge today-hadn't been one in a while. Granted, he could still read the chakra of a shinobi sitting somewhere on the roof. "And why is that?"

"Because," Yoshida answered, pushing up his glasses, "you need to face the problem, not medicate it. I started you on the antipsychotics to alleviate the symptoms, which, I'll admit, were much too vivid to ignore, but now its time to try again."

He liked his pills. They were his ticket to oblivion during the night-better than sake-and his path to normalcy during the day. He still felt things, sometimes saw or dreamed them, but it was grainy coffee through a sieve; filtered, weak, and thin. The intensity of red eyes was muted and discolored, visions of blood suppressed. He liked things the way they were, which meant: he liked his pills. The morning sun reached into the office with strong hands, chasing shadows through the room. It felt warm against his skin. He brought an arm up, turning it with interest. How long had it been since he'd last felt the sun? Noticed it pushing through his skin until it was burrowed deep within the marrow of his bones, the cells of his body, heating him outside in as much as inside out? "What do you want me to do?" he asked flatly, already feeling that warmth slipping away.

"Finish the prescription you have now, then you'll start on a lower dose and work yourself off."

Sasuke did nothing to indicate his acceptance, nor his reluctance.

Paper crinkled through the space, the sound of Yoshida flipping through his notes, settling on a new page. "Tell me about your team."

With a roundabout glance to Yoshida-where his eyebrows held a hint of question and his eyes their share of annoyance-Sasuke peered at the pavement below, stepping closer to the window's frame. Pinpricks of people moved through the closed street, hanging lanterns, banners, origami, and flowers. He would be working with them, part of his community service, in preparation for the Lantern Festival. More reason for irritation. "Which one?" he acknowledged finally.

A pen scraped across paper, "whichever."

Seeing as Team Kakashi had one dead member, one grieving kunoichi, and one traitor, he opted for Team Hebi. "Karin was"-a crushing idiot-"enthusiastic. Suiguitsu was"-an asshole-"loud. And Jugo was,"-a berserker-"he was someone you would have liked."

Yoshida's voice held interest. "And why's that?"

Smirking, Sasuke turned to the side, "he was crazy."

A short clap of laughter followed his comment. "Sounds like someone I'd chat with."

"Were you friends? Comrades"

_Question of the month_. Were they? "We never left each other behind enemy lines, if that's what you meant."

"No," Yoshida corrected, "that's a start, but its not what I meant. Did you like their company, care for it? That's more what I was thinking."

Shoulders falling into a light shrug, Sasuke watched a civilian on the street, focused idly on her movements. There was a source of chakra nearing them from the hall. It caught the edge of his attention. "I don't know. Sometimes yes, most times no."

"That's how I feel about my wife," Yoshida grinned, humor in his voice. "I love her enough, but most of the time she's a handful."

"I'm gonna tell mom you're badmouthing her."

Sasuke turned at the newcomer, the chakra from the hall. A boy, walking the frayed line between child and teen, stood in the office. His hair was a sooty black, with brown eyes and a face clinging to the soft planes and smooth skin of preadolescence.

At his entrance, Yoshida's eyes softened, his aura shifted, warmed and hummed. He stood quickly and maneuvered around his desk. One arm fell around the boy's shoulders, the other coming to ruffle his hair.

The kid squirmed at his father's handling, brushing a speedy hand through the unruly mop.

"This," Yoshida pointed beside him, "is my son, Ichiro. He's a chunnin." Pride seeped from Yoshida in hardly restrained waves.

Sasuke felt a pang of envy. And something else, something like admiration. That was how a father should speak of his son, look at his son; like he was the best thing he ever did. Someday, he would look at his son like that.

Yoshida glanced at Sasuke, then back at Ichiro, "This is Uchiha-san."

The smile on Ichiro's face dimmed. "Oh. I didn't know you were his shrink." He said, eyes not leaving his father's.

A hint of irritation marked Sasuke's stance.

"Ichiro!" His father scolded, looking at him sternly, voice not a scream, but firm enough to carry the same weight, perhaps more.

Ichiro blushed, riled his hair, muttered under his breath, and looked at the ground. "Sorry, dad."

Quickly, he struck out his hand, "Nice to meet you. I've heard _a lot_ about you."

All bad, by the looks of it. Sasuke disregarded the barb, and the hand offered.

"Likewise."

Ichiro's gaze darkened, he pulled his hand back with enough force to knock his elbow through the wall behind him.

"Can I talk to you outside, for a sec?" He addressed his father.

Yoshida guided him out of the office, leaving with a sigh.

Through the cracked door, Sasuke could see and hear them.

"That was very rude of you, Ichiro. You know I expect better."

The boy fidgeted in his place, "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"No," Yoshida agreed sternly, eyebrows furrowed, voice laced with iron, "it won't."

Neither spoke for a moment. An awkward tension clung to them, reminiscent of days spent with his father at the Uchiha compound. Finally, Yoshida yielded. "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me about."

Ichiro's eyes lit up and with an exclamation, he pulled out a scroll. "I've got a mission today. My first B rank! Just wanted to let you know before I left."

There was conflict in Yoshida's eyes. Pride, as always, but hesitance. _Fear_, Sasuke recognized.

Hiding his reservations, Yoshida clapped his son on the back, a full laugh attached. "That's my boy. I'm proud of you, Ichiro," he added, pulling him closer.

Ichiro grinned and went to move away, but Yoshida clasped him to him in an embrace. "I want you to be careful, you hear. Take care of yourself and come back soon. Your mother worries." _I worry_, Sasuke heard.

"Daaaad!" Ichiro whined, looking three shades of red. "I'm too old for that!"

There was an indulging smile on Yoshida's face, "of course. Weren't you late to something?"

That was all it took for Ichiro to grin his way down the hall. He turned back once, with a wave and a loud, "see ya later!"

For six heartbeats, Yoshida watched the door through which he left. When he turned, he looked straight at Sasuke, melancholy in his gaze.

"I hate when he goes off on missions." Yoshida admitted, stepping back behind his desk. He sat down with a heavy sigh, pulling his glasses down and rubbing his eyes.

"He means everything to me." The confession came with a bittersweet smile. Sasuke found it odd to have the roles of their interactions reversed. At times, Yoshida spoke of his life, but not with such honesty, such attachment. This felt like a conversation, a real one. Pushing on his glasses again, Yoshida blinked at him, "don't misread me, I adore my wife. But, when you have children, you'll understand. They're your entire world"

Sasuke wasn't sure how he felt about that. He had a world of people once, and it was a fragile, dangerous thing to love so strongly. If, or when, it unraveled, it took your soul with you.

"How dangerous are B missions?" Yoshida looked at him, somewhat lost.

They were dangerous. But he didn't say it. "The first ones are easiest. They're for training, mostly. His sensei will keep the team away from any real danger."

"Of course," his head fell into a nod. "They're only kids." He laughed, shakily, "Ichiro's just fourteen."

"He'll be fine, Yoshida."

"I'll take that as your professional opinion." He joked with forced humor.

Sasuke moved to the window, eyes sightless. Ichiro and Yoshida's exchange was the only thing he could see. There had never been anything but cold touches and shallow words between him and his father. Rarely had Sasuke seen pride or love in his father's gaze, much less felt its effects. The few times he had were guarded memories. He made a vow that day, a promise, as Naruto would have said. His children would know love. On the graves of his family, on the grave of his father, he swore it.

* * *

Sakura straightened her yukata, Ino walking at her left, Hinata at her right. The thought that Hinata's clan might be linked to her team's murder was hot on her mind. When she'd seen Neji…she couldn't even begin to describe the loathing that bubbled up in her. The blood in her veins had boiled to burning before settling slowly into a frozen churn. Training, and the benefit of the doubt-which she was still narrowly offering-was the only thing that kept her expression calm, relaxed. Although the pregnant wife at his side helped matters too. She wasn't sure what she would do when she knew for sure. A part of her was sure she'd kill him and another, more rational side told her a good beating and a trial was the worst she could do-should do. Either way, if it was him, his clan, then she would see him punished. Her gaze wandered to the black-haired woman at his side. Her yukata, a fine blend of cotton and satin, did nothing to hide the swell beneath it. If she took action against him, there'd be another fatherless child on her hands.

The evening pulled them apart, Tenten drifting off with Kiba as soon as Neji had arrived-not that Sakura blamed her; it was clear that she loved him-Hinata following her cousin shortly after, and her making excuses to Ino and Shika-who deserved their time together. Kami only knew how long this peace would hold. No doubt this was Konoha's last Lantern Festival for the years to come.

She was wandering the streets alone, surrounded by the glow of lanterns, the push of people, the sound of holidays, the warmth of company, yet she felt deserted. A hollowness within her that was hard to fill tonight, that crawled from her heart and painted a white line over the empty space beside her. He should be there, standing with her, as her husband. A cruel smile twisted her face. Her wedding day had passed-and she had forgotten. She would have been a bride and today, she should have been a wife. She wished Kakashi was around, with his soft voice and hidden smiles. Even his orange book wouldn't have bothered her, then again, it hadn't bothered her in a while. Sai would be welcome too, insults and all. Her prayers went out to them, wherever they were. _Keep them safe._ There were few precious people left to her. And they needed to stay, or this time the rest of her heart would fall away.

Swirling colors caught her attention. Pinwheels. An entire stand of them spinning lazily in the dying breeze. One finger fell gently over a red-checkered blade. As a child, her aunt would buy them for her, then before the fireworks started, they would pull the little cord hanging from the handle. The end of each blade would spark, spinning into a glowing circle of light. Children liked to clutch them against the backdrop of night, pretending they held a ring of fireflies. They had been Naruto's favorite.

"_Why? I thought they'd be the lanterns." _She had asked him.

His face had been distant when he'd spoken. _"Everyone gets a lantern. But you have to have parents to get pinwheels. Sometimes Sensei would buy them for me." _

Sakura almost moved away, almost slipped into the thick of the crowd, almost vanished into her home. She stopped dead in her tracks. He was here. His lips whispered over her cheek. _Stay_. After so many weeks of not feeling him, her breath rattled into her lungs, eyelids fluttering closed. A memory showed itself to her.

_"Hey, Sakura?_"

_She mumbled drowsily, digging into her sleeping pallet. _Too early, _she wanted to say. But he didn't let her, looking to see Sai sleeping, Naruto crawled in next to her silently. His arm wrapped over her waste, drawing her close. "I have a promise I want from you," he murmured into her neck. _

_A sleepy gutturalism from her throat cued him to continue. His hand strummed along the skin of her stomach softly, languidly, the way a musician played his guitar in the small hours of the morning. _

_"Promise me that if something happens to me. You'll move on."_

_The words were like a bucket of ice shoved down her back. She wiggled around, catching his gaze. _

_"What are you talking about."_

_The blue of his eyes was calm as he spoke, as if he'd given this thought many times before, "our jobs are dangerous Sakura"-no "chan," he was serious-"people die all the time. I just want to know you'll let yourself be happy if that happened." _

_Sakura eased one hand under his cheek, then combed the other through his hair, stroking his brow with her thumb. His eyes closed briefly at her touch. This was hers. This man, this life they were building. _This_ was her happiness. No one would take it away from her. "Did the Kyuubi see something?"_

_"No." It was a lie she didn't catch. His arm moved from her waist, coming to rest over her hand, holding it to his cheek. "Just say it, make me happy."_

_With a sigh she smiled at him, "does it go both ways? If I promise, will you?"_

_"Yes." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. _

_"Fine. I, Haruno Sakura, last daughter of the Haruno Clan, jounin of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, do so solemnly swear to strive for happiness in the event of"-she searched for another way to say it-"in case of…in case something happens."_

_She looked at him expectedly._

_"Ditto." He kissed her, long and sweet. "That was a crappy ending for such a great speech." He said, grinning._

_"Idiot." _

_They looked up when Kakashi fell through the canopy._

_"Hate to interrupt the PDA, but its your watch."_

_Naruto pulled away, muttering about old perverts and slave-drivers. He took the warmth from her, cold seeping into her bones after he left. Sakura spent the night wide-awake, thinking about his words. They had felt like a premonition._

They had been. Naruto had died within the month.

Sakura blinked, shaking, she gripped the side of a post. _Remember your promise, Sakura, twice-given. _The edge of her vision caught his shadow. He was washing away into nothing. _No._ She took a hurried step to him, he smiled, the color seeping from his eyes. _No._

"Don't go." She pleaded, voice a tiny cry.

_Get a pinwheel for me, would ya? Love you, Sakura-chan._

And he was gone. One arm gripping the post of the pinwheel stand, she brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a chocked sob. She curved into herself, hanging tightly to the wood, breathing raggedly. The voice of child buying a treat forced her to straighten her back. She had to control herself. No one needed a shinobi to break down in public, in the middle of a festival and possibly a war. Sakura swallowed three mouthfuls of air. _Focus. _Then slowly, pushed them past her lips. _That's right_, she cheered herself, _just like that. _Palm trembling, she swept it across both of her cheeks, smearing tears. The faster for them to dry. She stepped away warily from the post that had anchored her, moving her gaze from the floor.

Their eyes met, black against green.

"You okay?"

She felt three things at once: shock, shame, and the unhinging of her jaw into a stunned open-mouthed stare.

Prying her eyes from his, Sakura patted down her hair and the obi of her yukata. She cleared her throat, nodding meekly. He always seemed to catch her at her worst.

"What are you doing here?" It was the only thing she could think off. Hopefully he would throw her a line and get the hint. _Move on, change the subject._

Sasuke stayed where he stood, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Community service."

The shirt he wore was simple, something to get dirty or sweaty, paired with a standard set of shinobi-grade pants. Both with the Uchiha crest sewn into them. "Right," she acknowledged.

His thumb jerked over his shoulder. "There's an Ichiraku stand close-by. Teuchi's actually serving ramen."

That, Sakura guessed, was as close as Uchiha Sasuke would come to an invitation.

"Some ramen, for old time's sake? Sounds nice."

He was already turning to leave, but when she didn't follow he stopped.

Sakura was picking out a pinwheel. Head bent close to them, searching, sometimes touching one, picking it from the stand before putting it back. Her bangs swept across her shoulders, falling over her face. The decorations in her hair tinkled down beside them, jerking with her movements. The sheen of lantern-light on pearl brought his stare to the comb nestled over the bun at her neck. A cherry blossom, how appropriate. The smile-slow, small, and melancholic-that touched her lips caught his attention. She was paying for a pinwheel, a blue one, the piercing blue of the sky on a clear autumn day.

Holding it up, fingers spinning the blades, she turned it to him. "For old time's sake. And," she added, "for old friends."

* * *

"You look tired." She observed, catching the shadows on his face.

That wasn't a difficult deduction. In the past week he hadn't slept more than six hours. He stared at the ceiling fan for half the night, only to fall into a hellish world that woke him with sweat on his brow, fever in his eyes, and bile in his throat. Yoshida's new dose did nothing for him. Dreamless nights were over.

He looked up at her when she spoke, "hn."

Noodles hanging from her chopsticks, she asked quietly, "Nightmares?"

Sasuke kept his gaze on the clear broth of his dinner. Blood, red eyes, crows, swords, bodies, faces, splatters, limbs, tunnels, snakes: a chilling mishmash of the last ten years of his life. A decade spent hunting and killing; what a legacy he would leave.

Beside him, Sakura nodded. "It gets better, Sasuke."

There was poisoned sarcasm in his voice, though it stayed even and unanimated. "Is that why you were crying?"

There was a near imperceptible cringe from her as she remembered Kakashi's words-and how she'd thrown them back. Ironic that she was getting a taste of her own medicine. Karma had a bitch of a memory. "That's how I treated Kakashi when he said that."

He remained silent, watching the way she fiddled with her food. She was vulnerable tonight; off-guard. The acidity of her ANBU station had corroded itself, if only temporarily.

"He told me it would get better." Smiling at him, eyes regretful, she continued. "I wasn't very receptive."

"Did it?" he interrupted, stirring noodles absentmindedly.

Her face was blank, "did it what?"

"Get better."

"Of course." Her hand moved for the tea.

"This is better to you?" One black, thin eyebrow moved higher on his forehead.

She sipped from her tea, glaring over the china. "Don't be a smartass."

"Of course." He copied.

The gentle smile she turned on him cut through his chest from the inside out. It sobered him instantly.

"There are good days with bad moments and bad days with good moments. From what I can tell, the good will eventually outweigh the bad." With her index finger, she traced the rim of her cup. Round and round and round. "Time does heal, Sasuke. It just takes a while, and it always leaves a scar."

Scars were something he had plenty off. Glancing at her, he admitted, so did she. So did every shinobi, every villager. Each man carried his cross, some were just heavier than others.

"Come on," She grinned at him widely-too much teeth and stretched cheeks for it to be genuine-standing from her stool, "No more graveyard talk. We need two lanterns."

Following her, Sasuke stared at the simple obi at her back, the skin of her neck above it and the peek of ankles below. The yukata she wore hid her curves-made it that more interesting to watch for them. It swathed her in colored cotton wrapping, a mystery that made his hand itch.

"Sasuke?"

A red lantern, unlit, dangled from her outstretched arm. Her face searched his and he shuttered his thoughts behind black windows. His gaze followed the swinging lantern.

"I don't need one."

Her expression stayed expectant, as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"I don't-"

Snatching his hand, she shoved the lantern into it. "I heard you. I also don't care."

He glared, having every intention of dropping the lantern. Until her hand curled over his.

Eyes both pleading and irritated-an interesting combination-she pulled the lantern close. "Hold it up, please."

He obliged and watched, with some measure of surprise, as her hands formed the seals for a small fire jutsu. Breath held, she pulled the candle from inside, blowing on it softly. A stream of red fell from her lips. She touched her mouth, smacking it lightly at the dryness. "See?" She held up the candle triumphantly. "I already lit it for you. No work required. Plus, an extinguished lantern is a bad omen. So don't even think about it." Her hand was already retreating from the inside of the lantern, an orange glow painting their faces. The character for _heaven _was a prominent brush of black over ember.

"Our wishes for heaven," Sakura murmured

She pulled her own candle out, the wick catching as her face neared. Traditionally, he should have lit it for her. They said a lantern birthed by the hand of another flew higher. Better luck for granting wishes. He got his chance when a curl of wind licked the flame.

Her face fell as she followed the tendril of smoke left in its place-like a life, blown away. "That's _really_ bad. If the candle dies, the lantern never flies; to the wisher misfortune lies_._" She recited with a sigh.

"Nursery rhymes aren't fortune tellers. But," a puff of heat exploded from his mouth; the candle roared to life in her palm, "if they are, there are ways to counteract them."

His head was still bent close to her when she turned, nearly knocking into his brow. She backed away a step, smiling her thanks.

The slow pulse of drums threaded through the air. Sakura and Sasuke looked towards The Pillars: three enormous lanterns anchored by ropes of colored silk flags. The largest, with Konoha's symbol at its center, wobbled when four men undid its ties. Their muscles heaved under the strain of its pull.

"This is it! Make a wish!" Sakura urged him, holding her lantern between her hands, eyes closed.

He didn't have a wish. For too long he had only wanted the life of his family or the death of his brother. One was impossible, the other was already done. Now his wish was to have a wish; something to work for, something to fight for, something _worth_ fighting for. For the briefest of moments, his eyelids sealed. At age seven, his mother had told him men needed three things to be happy: something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for. He could manage the first and maybe, if he learned the third, the second as well. _I wish for hope._

Sakura stood still beside him, muscles tense, breath rapid. He waited for her, watching the skin of her arms bristle. She had felt him again.

_Remember your promise._

The faintest wrap of arms around her, of lips to her neck, cheek, mouth, of desperate fingers snatching one last touch of skin, of a voice unshakably whispering her name.

_Sakura_

_Sakura_

_Sakura_

_Sakura_

_I love you._

Then silence. The absence of sound and touch. She knew he was gone. This time, for good.

A guttural metallic clang joined the drums that beat around them, and with it, more men appeared, wrapping the ropes of the other lanterns around their forearm. Sasuke saw them do this and he saw Sakura still unmoving, frozen to the ground.

The pulse of the drums wove through her heartbeat, like the music at the club. She wished on promises. She wished for happiness, for love, for strength, for peace, for better tomorrows. She wished, in the end, that the good days would outnumber the bad. _I wish for the future._

Her eyes flicked open. Sasuke was staring at her. Grasping his hand in hers, she pointed towards The Pillars. "Get ready."

With their free arm, the men cut through knots on the ground and finally, with the last resounding _bang _of a ceremonial drum, they let go. An explosion of flowers rained through the streets, from balconies, from villagers, from the three orange balloons above.

"Now." A squeeze of her hand and they let their lanterns go. They wavered, bobbed, then floated up, up, up, through tiny jasmine buds, slow and lazy, like a river at its calmest.

In seconds, the sky turned orange; the glow of saffron fitted against black; a burn brighter than the modest glint of pinhole stars.

Sakura watched with wonder painted on her face. "Its incredible."

His gaze stayed on the sky, where a thousand lanterns, a thousand wishes, grew smaller with each minute.

"May they reach the ceiling of heaven and be heard." She recounted, whispering a blessing he remembered from his childhood, one every parent taught their toddler during the Lantern Festival.

"I'm glad Ino dragged me out here."

Glancing over at her, they caught each other's stare. She had jasmine dusted over her hair, Spring Snow, as it was called.

From her smile burst a short string of laughter. "You have-" one hand pointed to her hair, the other muffled her laughs.

Bamboo chimes, he decided. That was her laugh. Reaching up, he shook a hand through the crown of his head. He grimaced as white flowers drifted to the ground. "You too." He smirked.

Her shoulders rose then dropped, _So what? I'm the girl here._ A casual swipe of her hand and they were gone.

"What did you wish for?"

"I thought," he chastised, "that you're not supposed to say."

"That's the only rule you're allowed to break."

"Since when?"

She slid into a walk beside him, every once in a while snatching a peak of the sky, trying to see the last bit of orange. "Since girls invented gossip."

He snorted and she looked back at the sky. "They're still there."

Her eyes found the red of his, tomoe spinning slowly. "Cheater."

Hand gliding down, Sakura scooped some jasmine from the street, tucking it into the drawstring purse at her wrist. "For their perfume," she clarified. "they'll leave a house smelling heavenly."

Sasuke didn't say anything, though she was probably right. The air was thick with the ghost of a scent, sweet and light, innocent.

"Anyhow, I wished-" her sentence cut off and her voice changed, smiling she looked back at him, "you know what. Never mind. You're right. Wishes are for us and whoever grants them, no one else."

She had stirred his curiosity, only to smother it. If this was a plan to get him interested, it had worked. Not that he would honestly admit it. _Women_. "That," he finally said, "was a tease."

"Yes, it was." But she didn't say anymore on the subject. It was alright by him, he wasn't ready to share his dreams yet. Maybe, he _hoped_, in the future.

Maybe, she mused, in the _future._

* * *

The lights overhead flickered into darkness. Both her and Myugi-san blinked up at them, sightless in the void.

"What the hell-" Myugi-san whispered.

Static cut from their radios. "Code seven-eighty-two. All agents remain on high alert."

"The festival must have blown a transmitter." She offered, a thrill going through her. This was it; the chance she needed. It would take at least fifteen minutes for the video feed to reboot.

At her side, Myugi-san hummed an answer.

"I'll check the inside. You keep watch."

Her sentence was followed by the crackle of emergency lights coming to life one by one, a glowing string of lines moving down the center of the hall.

"Be careful." Myugi-san warned her, head tilting side to side, peering into shadows.

Sakura put a hand to the pad in the wall, clicking in an access code; the double doors hissed open and, before they shut, she slid soundlessly between them.

Her feet knew the path. For hours, she had searched through files here, looking for information on the jutsu she was recreating. ANBU had been interested in her pet project. They'd given her the grant and the means. There was still a warrant in her uniform from her last visit to Level Four. _Clan Information _loomed before her. She had to hurry, if she was found, hands stuck elbow-deep in evidence, there was nothing in this life or the next that could protect her. Discovery guaranteed a trip to the interrogation unit, then suspension or worse. Agents, nosy ones, disappeared all the time.

_Naruto, wherever your are, watch over me._

She leafed through the file in her hand, the red stamp of a level four classified document putting her on edge. Her heart was beating quickly within her chest, nerves shaking her frame. At every noise her fingers stalled over the page, lungs stopping, pulse rushing loudly in her strained ears. There wasn't much time before the video feed came on again. But she couldn't pass up such an opportunity. To be posted on Level Four, on the night of the Festival, when security was slack, during a power outage, was a godsend. Fate was feeling generous towards her and she'd be a fool to ignore the mood.

She had rifled through three recent files before admitting defeat. _Nothing._

Sakura was both disappointed and relieved as she tucked the current file back, her gloves hiding the traces of chakra. She had found nothing on them. Other than a serious incident with Cloud, the Hyuga had no recorded offenses. And their latest activity-down to the last detail Sai had passed on-was being carefully monitored. She was finally walking back to her post-where she was supposed to be-when the character for _Uchiha _stuck her to the cold cement of the ground. An entire section, as large as the Hyuga's, was dedicated to them. Facing it slowly, Sakura's hand hovered over the last file, the thickest and most recent. _There's little time left_, a voice threatened her. Fear sent another shock of adrenaline through her. Straight ahead, a camera-red light off-glinted in the soft glow; a reminder. A bead of sweat rolled across the skin of her neck. Steeling herself she plucked the file from the shelf. The overhead lights, three lonely fluorescent bulbs that fed off the generator, cast shadows on the page. Drawing back the manila cover, she was met with the title page: a typed sheet listing the clan's name and the subject matter, _Volume 202, The Uchiha Massacre_, _Level Four Classified_ stamped ominously below it. Swallowing the knot in her throat, Sakura continued, red ink burned into her eyes. There were pictures; sick, bloody pictures. _Kami_. She had seen things just as bad, seen the bodies of women and children. But this, this was an album of corpses. She paused over the picture of Uchiha Mikoto and her husband. The matriarch and patriarch of the Uchiha clan; Sasuke's parents. She felt ill. He had stumbled home to this, worse, to his brother doing this. It was a miracle Sasuke still held any sort of sanity. Sakura shoved it back, burying the clan's bloody end between the volumes of their history. Her eyes lingered on the file before it. She plucked it carefully, holding her breath when it fell open in her arms. Her blood came to a screeching stop, freezing within the flesh of her veins. _Coup_. Gaze swallowing the word, Sakura sped through the writing, cover to cover. _Revolting…underground meetings…plans for a coup…imprisonment of the Hokage…village takeover_. They had been staging a coup. The Uchiha, Konoha's greatest clan, the faces of the original Police Force, had tried to usurp the government. The shock of the information didn't have time to settle in. From somewhere in the archives, an echo rang.

Sakura's head snapped up. The file was back in its place within a second. Digging one hand into her weapons pouch, she moved noiselessly to the source. Sharp-edged fear honed her muscles, squeezed sweat from her skin and air from her lungs, agitated the heavy _thump _of her heart.

_Calm, Sakura. No one's caught you yet. You're a guard, investigating a noise. _She exhaled slowly._ You're in the right. _At a touch from her hand, her mask slid noiselessly over her face. _Focus._

Her movements were lightening striking the ground: fast, unpredictable, and unstoppable. Shame her opponent was faster. The feel of his neck within the clamp of her elbow was gone so fast she thought him a ghost. Jumping away, she narrowly dodged a shuriken, then almost dropped her kunai when she met the pearled gaze of Hyuga Neji.

He was similarly frozen, although the shock on his face dimmed quickly, muscles falling back into a neutral stare.

"Haruno-san." He observed, taking in the color of her hair. "You do not need to kill legitimate visitors." Warily she watched him watch her, hand digging slowly into his pocket. A warrant appeared between them.

"Move your thumb." She growled evenly. His hesitation stirred her suspicion.

Reluctantly, he shifted the warrant, revealing a signature where his finger had been. Myugi-san's signature.

"What's in your hand." Her head nodded to the file at his left.

Neji looked down casually, as if he hadn't noticed he was carrying it, "just some information."

"Why, if that file is a Level One," she took in the green tag, "would you be in a Level Four zone? Looking for anything else?"

The arrogant tilt of his brow preceded his response. "Ergo the warrant."

Beneath the bone of her mask, her teeth ground together. They stood at an impasse, neither speaking. It was then that a sliver of red snatched her attention. Only her eyes shifted to the file in his hand. There it was, the edge of the typical Level Four stamp. A highly classified document hidden within the folder of a public record. Her opinion was biased, she knew. She wanted someone to burn for the death of her team, and that want clouded her judgment. But with every passing day she found herself with new reasons to watch the Hyuga. _Don't do anything stupid, _Sai had reminded her. She wouldn't, not yet. Sakura moved to pass him, pausing at his side, shoulders touching. She kept her face forward, gaze focused on the doors in the distance. "You have a son on the way, Neji-san. Think of him when you finish whatever it you're doing here tonight."

He remained immobile, impassive, but his heart missed a beat. As the doors slammed shut behind him, a dull, hiss filling the space, Tenten's warning flashed in his mind: _Whatever it is your clan's doing is being watched. _Yes, and it would seem Konoha was coming to their own conclusions. He thought of what Hyuga-sama was doing; how his decisions were affecting them all. Neji was tired, tired of cleaning up after his uncle's messes, tired of following after the clan, tired of waking up to a woman he honored, but couldn't love. Everything was falling apart.

* * *

Sakura wanted so badly to follow him home. She knew what she'd seen. She knew he was tampering with Level Four files. She also knew, that if she followed, she might find out what, why, and who. But she stayed at her post long after he had come through the double doors. No matter how her bones itched to trail after him, she remained next to Myugi-san until the end of her shift. Walking through Konoha under the dark black of predawn, Sakura shook her head. It wouldn't have ended well had she gone after him. Neji was a skilled shinobi, him detecting her was a serious possibility. If not him, one of the sensors or guards at the compound. Then she would have been the one in a compromising situation.

Swinging the duffel bag in her hand forward, Sakura dug through it, feeling over the yukata from the festival, until her fingers curled over sharp paper. Gently, she pried it loose.

The pinwheel was a dull blue under the streetlights, flickering in and out of existence as she moved between them, between light and dark. By the time her feet had stepped over the threshold of the cemetery, the sky was blushing a murky rose on the far horizon. It lent just enough of a glow for her to weave through the tombstones, but not so much that it would ruin her objective.

Kneeling at his grave, Sakura stuck the pinwheel in the soft earth before it.

"You asked me for something today. Two somethings," she amended. "I'm here to bring you one, and to tell you that I'll try." Try to be the kind of happy you want me to be.

She took in a shaky breath, unfocused gaze drifting downwards, "Don't think that means you're off the hook," she laughed, a tumble of air rattling in her windpipe, "I'm still going to talk to you, and ask you for help-after all, you've got a lot more leverage up there than I do, so don't be lazy-and I'm not going to stop looking for you or crying about you. So get used to your ears ringing." Abstractedly, she rubbed the skin of her palm with one hand, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There was a sting pricking at her eyes, she did her best to ignore it.

"Here," she said through the knot in her throat, fingers curling over the pull on the pinwheel, "your favorite," she finished, tugging sharply. A puff of smoke, the smell of black powder, and the fizzle of a burning fuse later, the edge of each blade sprang to life. Sparks flew from them, wriggling to the ground like burning, ember worms. A sudden burst of wind swept through her hair. The pinwheel shook under its strain, blades spinning themselves into a frenzied blur of color and light.

"Show off," she muttered, a smile softening her face. Forearms pushing into her stomach, Sakura watched it burn; a circle of living light, a string of fireflies spinning out of control. It was beautiful, wild with unrestrained energy-just like him. His grave and her face were bathed in the glow of the pinwheel, a bright pocket of three in the coming dawn.

She stayed until it burned itself out, until there was nothing but singed blue paper, until the sun shook night from the world and was strong in the sky. Then, pressing a kiss from her palm to stone, she left.

_Goodbye, Naruto._


	12. Day 462: The Burnings

**New Author's Note:**

This is just the grammatically correct repost of the same chapter, I fixed the mistakes i was able to catch. I apologize for them. I also added a few more references to the reference list at the end of the chapter.

Also, a very important point was brought up in a review. I've addresed it (and another mistake, which was fixed in this repost) at the end of the chapter so as to not give anything away beforehand to those who haven't read.

**Original Author's Note:**

1. My apologies for the long wait!

2. Many thanks for the reviews! They're always inspiring!

3. Last chapter I forget to add an important citation! Here it is: In the scene where Sasuke remembers a phrase from his mother: "Men only need three things to be happy: something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for." That is an adapted version of a Chinese proverb. So now you know.

**Now, to address some of the reviews:**

1. I absolutely guarantee there will be romance between Sasuke and Sakura! So don't worry, its coming! Unfortunately, I made these two so messed up that they need to resolve some of their own issues before they have the time to think about love.

2. I do admit that I paint Tenten as rather bitter and Neji as despondent. Looking back, I wish I'd kept Tenten a bit cheerier, but she wrote herself… it was a tough ten years for her and him. I'm hoping to slowly pull them back from the depths though, so don't despair! I will give you a spoiler here (hear that: there's a **SPOILER **up ahead. Do not read, if you would prefer not knowing) don't get your hopes up about them getting back together. Terribly sorry about that, but at this point-there is a maybe implied there-I don't see it happening.

5. Also, in a previous chapter when Tenten warned Neji that his clan was being watched, it was never intended for her warning to be discovered. So (this could be considered a _spoiler_ up ahead, although it's a very small one that won't really affect the story; just a head's up) rest assured, she won't be reprimanded for it.

4. I'd like to address an important point brought up by a review. In Naruto, an ANBU's identity is completely confidential, inside and outside the village. I'll admit, I didn't know this. Usually I try to stick to the rules of the Naruto universe, but here I deviated. In my vision of the story, ANBU members are identifiable to the village through tattoos or uniform. Although when in uniform it is protocol to wear their issued masks. ANBU have two identities, one is recognizable, the other is not: they become faceless on the field or on the job. Thanks for bringing it to my attention!

Now, on with the story!

**Chapter 11: Day 462**

**The Burnings**

Water fell in sheets around them. It curved alongside the pillar-shaped room; a wall of rain that was as impressive as it was useless. She waited, squinting under the light shining from the far-off ceiling, not yet raising her head to the crevice where his dais sat high above her. He had not addressed her, and until he did, she could not lift her eyes. The clatter of water splashed below, a dimmed roar that filled the room with cool humidity.

"You're request has been approved."

Tsunade's head snapped upwards. She could not see him through the beaded curtain. It would be improper, and according to legend, Daimyo's were divine: their power would burn lesser beings. Although she didn't believe that drivel. It was a bunch of bullshit; intimidation tactics. Not that the dark, claustrophobic room with water walls, stone columns, and one bright, solitary light shining directly over her head, was doing a poor job of that. Taking in a measured breath, Tsunade bowed low, much lower than she was used to, "Konoha offers its thanks."

The Voice of the Daimyo, a well-dressed servant that stood before his throne, spoke again. "You will offer more than your thanks."

Her eyes flickered from him to the Daimyo. She had never understood how their communication worked, just that the Daimyo never spoke, never revealed his face. Yet he was heard. Whether through his retainers or his council. Rarely did this show of power impress her. No matter the legends the Fire Daimyo was a well-known pushover. A man with more airs than power. His advisors kept a tight hold of the reins. He was a well-led horse whose bridle was pulled just tight enough to control, but never roughly enough to alert him of the discomfort. Yet something was off today. She could feel it, even from her place. Anger. The Daimyo's aura was swirling with it.

"It is our honor to serve the Fire Daimyo." She offered cautiously.

The accusation fell from the retainer's mouth with striking force. "You disregarded my orders, Kage."

Her back went rigid, heart thrumming within her. It was not every day a Daimyo accused you of insubordination. Usually, people died beforehand. The fact that her title was thrown at her with such contempt held little weight for the moment. "And how," she began, swallowing thickly, "has Konoha offended his lordship?"

"Your shinobi," the last word was said dismissively, "went ahead with the treaty. Against my orders."

"Konoha had no hand in the matter your lordship. The treaty was passed before your messengers could arrive."

"And what of," the retainer asked, "his highness? Have you at least found his murderer?"

She could not implicate the Hyuga. Not yet, and certainly not to the Daimyo. "We are close." She offered.

When the man went to speak, he jolted, mouth clamping shut as the Daimyo's hand shot up, palm upwards. Tsunade did not know how he could see the gesture, considering he was facing her while the Daimyo remained hidden within his creviced throne. A jutsu, she concluded. He was nothing but a puppet.

The Voice of the Daimyo stepped demurely aside, bowing as he moved.

Then, against tradition and protocol, the words rang out. It was the first time in her career that she had heard it. The actual voice of the actual man. She wasn't surprised by the normalness of it. Rather, it was the fierceness that caught her. He was not a man that inspired fear. Until now.

"My son is dead."

The words were flung at her from his raised seat. They hovered dangerously, finitely.

"And yet," he continued, "you tell me you do not know who killed him? The _heir_ of Fire Country!"

Tsunade sucked in a breath through her teeth, watching warily through the jade beads as he tilted his head.

"Find him and kill him. Or I will kill you."

The threat was not empty. She understood that well.

Bending at the waist, Tsunade swept into a bow, fear and anger swirling within her. She was not one to stand for humiliation, but now, she reminded herself, was not the time to be stubborn. She knew how to pick her battles.

"It shall be done, your lordship."

The Hokage was well on her way to Konoha by the time a man appeared at the Daimyo's side. Wearing a crimson set of robes he leaned discretely towards his Lordship's ear.

"The Kage withheld information; Hyuga gold was used to pay for the mercenaries. One of their own led the attack, his highness' guard confirmed it."

Silence, and the dull roar of water, filled the room. Finally, the Voice of the Daimyo turned to meet the man's gaze. "Burn them."

The Daimyo, sitting passively, spoke again. It was time to remind Konoha who was lord of Fire Country. "An heir for an heir. Have I made myself clear?"

A soft shift of the man's head, robes breathing with the movement: "It shall be done, your Lordship."

* * *

Sakura sealed the last box. Drawing one long, shaky breath into her lungs, she exhaled slowly, with practiced control. The tightening of her jaw, her chest, her temple, did not go unnoticed. Her gaze wondered over the mess. Big, cardboard boxes were spread in small towers over the tatami matt, some with black marker slashed on a side. Those were for charity. They were generic things, clothes that lacked insignias, jackets that weren't his trademark colors, sandals that were still new enough, keepsakes that she couldn't put a place or date to. But the rest, the rest were for later. When Team Kakashi, Iruka, and Sasuke-if he came-would burn them. It was how things were done in Fire Country. Konoha nin were born of fire, and they were taken through fire. Ashes to Ashes. Technically, she should have burned his things within a year of his death, that was when The Burnings were always held.

The scratch of cardboard against cardboard reached her. Turning slightly, she caught sight of Kakashi shoving two boxes marked for donation. Without warning, Sakura threw a tiny case at him. His hand reached up lazily behind him, catching easily and without twisting to meet it.

He brought the black velvet up to his nose, prodding the lid open. Two bells, joined by a ratty thread of red silk, haphazardly lay within. Air had dulled their shine, but they were as round and unmarred as when Naruto had shown him years ago in the midst of a rocky battlefield.

_"Hey, Kakashi-sensei! I fixed them!"_

Neither spoke for several heartbeats, of which his were the fastest. Thumb smoothing over them, Kakashi cleared his throat, snapping the lid shut before slipping it into his pocket. This would be his gift, his Wareshi; a piece of the past to never forget. She had picked well.

Sakura offered him a hesitant smile, then strode past him and out the door with a heavy box in her arms. As if the weight in his pocket meant nothing at all, he followed.

Six trips, and two hours later, they were back in the chilled air of her home, slapping seals over the remaining boxes.

"What about these?" Kakashi asked touching the edge of a seal to two cedar boxes.

Her hand shot out, pulling his away. "Not those."

The note of urgency in her voice was met with a raised eyebrow.

"They're for storage."

"Aa, I see." He nodded, drawing his attention elsewhere. He didn't question her further. Just as he hadn't when she'd told him to leave Naruto's blazer were it was over the couch. She wouldn't burn that either. There were some things-picture albums, his favorite clothes, presents he'd given her, presents she'd given him-that meant too much; that she couldn't get rid of, not yet. Maybe never. For now, her solution was to shove them in the attic.

"Sakura,"

She hummed a reply, busy with a seal that had stuck to her thumb. The glue was persistent.

"This is good, what you're doing." The softness in his voice soothed her.

Her head angled towards him, eyes bright and dull at the same time. "You think so?"

Sometimes she was a little girl again. Sometimes she was the twelve year old Sakura he'd met. Not the one that shook her fists, the other one, the shy one. The one that hid her forehead, the one that ducked behind Sasuke when trouble stirred, the one that cried when her boys were hurt. The one that wasn't sure of her opinion. The one that needed a hand to help her up and a voice to tell her it would be okay.

Kakashi placed his hand over her head, ruffling her hair-just like he'd done when she'd been a little girl. "I know so."

Sakura stared at her hands, head falling into a nod. "Okay." It was so soft, her voice: a whisper of silk on silk. The sound of a child lost.

Pulling her up by the hand, he did what he was best at: Pretending. He pretended not to notice. Pretended not to hear the edge in her words or the muted jingle from his pocket. Instead, he smacked a smile on his hidden face and exerted false ease. "Come on, we're done here for now."

"Where are we going?"

Nonchalantly, his eye roamed to her. "Bookstore, where else?"

Sakura followed him out the door with a groan of protest, "don't tell me: the new _Icha Icha_ is released today."

"Of course."

* * *

Suigetsu stared at her blankly. His features twisted into an eloquent "_huh?" _This was more than he had hoped for.

With an irritated click of her tongue, the Hokage's apprentice-Shizune, he recalled-crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you deaf or stupid?"

A twinge of insult flickered through him, mouth souring into a manageable snarl. The bitch had some nerve, he'd give her that. "Neither," he bit off loudly, voice pitched an octave in outraged indignation

"Well, then you both heard and understood what I said." He noticed her move aside a pig-yes, a pink, curly-tailed, pig-from her desk. It gave a squeal of protest, then ambled off to his side. His head turned towards it automatically, eyes wondering whether they should narrow in confusion or widen in wonder. Who the hell kept a pig in an office? He would have said as much if it hadn't rubbed its moist snout against his trousers. Violently, he shoved it away.

He was met by her disapproving glare.

"As I was saying," she continued, unbothered when the pink thing snuggled beneath her chair, "your teammate-Juugo-san, was it?-has been deemed a threat to Konoha."

A threat? A _threat! _"What the fuck does that mean?" he growled, moving unwisely towards her.

"It means," she said firmly, unwaveringly, "that he will be retrieved and brought back for assessment…and treatment."

Suigetsu's face scrunched up in thought, then, the words dawned on him and he broke into a grin that was all sharp-edged, glinting teeth. Two of them were broken, one was missing, and three were chipped. If anything, Shizune noted, they just added to the effect. For someone who was trying to look happy, he came off dangerously close to terrifying.

"You're sending a team after him!"

Her short black hair scarcely moved with the nod of her head. "Yes, we are. We'll also try to help him with his problem."

Now, he knew Konoha had a sappy reputation, but this was a bit much. "My agreement with the Hokage was only that I be released."

The pig pawed at her chair. With an easy, practiced movement, she had him sitting in her lap. Suigetsu was still staring, a mixture of curiosity, repulsion, and disbelief, when she answered.

"It was. However, Juugo-san is a matter of village security. That and the mission is a contract." Her gaze watched him carefully, waiting for him to ask.

"A contract?" His lip pulled back over the edge of his teeth, somehow unhurt. "Who hired you?"

She had been surprised herself when Uchiha Sasuke had laid a satchel of gold ryo over her desk, his face expressionless as he asked to hire Konoha's services. "Who else?"

A laugh burst from him; dry, rough, and earnest. "That bastard came through." _What do you know; he _is _warm-blooded._

"So," he asked, flashing another grin that was straggling between charming and disturbing, "am I free to go now?"

The woman's face became serious again, though he swore there was a glint in her eyes. His hackles rose in warning.

"Actually, you're not."

He was starring out a two-by-two window within half an hour. "_A threat to the mission._" She'd said. _"Can't have you running around when you know we're about to send a team out into enemy territory. Who knows who you could tell."_

His scowl deepened briefly before settling. Well, he conceded, watching a cloud drift by through the chakra-enforced glass, at least he was finally in a better cell. Prying one arm from where it rested behind his head, he took a sip from his newly-returned canteen. Nothing to do but wait. For now.

* * *

"What's this?"

Sasuke ripped the prescription from Kakashi's hand, burying it within the folds of his pocket, far away from prying copy nins.

The eyebrow above Kakashi's visible eye rose pointedly, "Yoshida still giving you meds?"

Damn perception. "How would you know?"

Sasuke moved through the pharmacy, doing a good job of ignoring his former sensei. His prescription would have to wait until the shock of silver hair tagging beside him disappeared.

Nose peeking from the cover of the latest Icha Icha-not as good as the originals; no one could ever understand sophisticated perversion like Jiraiya-he looked briefly ahead, avoiding a cabbage cart with an ease best left to shinobi, or men well trained in ambulatory reading.

"I know everything, from when you threw a shuriken at him, to how you're seeing ghosts."

The slight, almost imperceptible, narrowing of his eyes was the only indication of his reaction. Sasuke kept his voice bored as he spoke, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kakashi didn't glance away from his novel, "I was in ABNU for years, I know several of the members and the bars they frequent."

The black of Sasuke's eyes swirled briefly with crimson, anger lending bitter substance to his tone, "it's none of your fucking business."

The Copy Ninja registered the sharp turn of Sasuke's chakra, choosing to ignore it, he followed him into the shop of a renown-aka, expensive beyond what he was willing to pay-retailer.

An old man, wrinkled and grey with the mark of his age, waited behind a heavily lacquered counter, rich chocolate wood offset by a bamboo-enclosed crane, the store's logo, tattooed in gold.

Kakashi watched as their footsteps, dusty etchings on the fine tatami, were swept away immediately by a silent girl in a kimono.

"Welcome, Uchiha-sama."

Sasuke returned the man's deep bow with a shallow move of his neck.

"I'm here to pick up my order."

A carefully packaged set of shinobi gear, wrapped in black silk, was brought from the storage room by another silent worker.

Kakashi was watching curiously over the edge of his book, momentarily pulled away from the spicy passage he'd been reading by the foreign world of opulent clans and heritages. Sometimes he forgot that Sasuke was the sole heir to a family's entire fortune.

Laying a slip of paper with the Uchiha crest on the counter, Sasuke walked away from the store, one persistent shinobi at his side.

"Stop following me."

"Maybe if you buy me one of those," Kakashi mused, angling his book towards the silk-swathed piece in Sasuke's arm, mouth curling into a grin.

"Why are you buying armor?"

Sasuke avoided a puddle on the muddy road, disappointed when Kakashi evaded it just as easily despite the spine of his book shoved resolutely against his nose.

"Mission."

That caught him off guard. And it gave Sasuke pleasure to see the surprise on his old sensei's face. His anger was mollified. At least there were some parts of his life still unadvertised, even if they were fake. "I thought you knew everything."

Kakashi was unphased by the condescending tone, "no, just enough."

"Hn."

"Seriously," he asked, flipping a page, "what's the gear for?"

"Training."

He pictured more than saw Kakashi nodding. "Finally allowed to carry weapons?"

_Smart-ass. _"Hn."

Sasuke ducked under a blacksmith's awning. Eyes briefly flashing to the kanji over the blue tarp, Kakshi noted it was the most prestigious blacksmith in Konoha. Possibly in Fire Country. ANBU drafted their services for high-grade missions. When Sasuke walked out it wasn't his sword which caught Kakashi's attention, although it had probably been rebalanced and honed. Rather it was the polished box of blue, gleaming wood with the Uchiha fan stamped on its lid. He knew these were a set of kunai. A set of ten perfectly balanced, devastatingly sharp, legendarly strong, kunai.

"Stop staring."

Kakashi did more than that. He snatched the box from Sasuke's hands, having shoved his book into a back pocket. He wasn't dissapointed when he opened it. Shame he only got a glimpse before Sasuke snapped it shut and pulled it to his side.

"If only I had a student who would buy me such a gift."

A scoff was his answer.

Kakashi shrugged his shoulders. He'd have to do with the standard jounin fare. His nose was back in his book when he asked. "Are you coming?"

Sasuke glanced at him. "To what?"

Subtly catching the eye of a well-endowed woman, he pretended to read, her giggles trailing after his back. He'd have to remember the name of that bar she'd been standing by. "I'm sure Sakura asked you." he said absentmindedly. _Double-Leaf on Main Street. Remember that_. He could invite Genma or Gai. Scratch that. Not Gai. He wouldn't catch a dog's attention with Gai standing near, much less a woman's.

"Aa."

"And?" Kakashi prompted.

"I'm coming."

Satisfied, he returned to his book. The scoundrel, really a prince with a dark, violent past, was seconds away from ravishing his lover, a prostitute playing hard to get, in a hot spring. He sighed. _Icha, Icha _was ruined. The coiling spiral of Sasuke's chakra pulled him rapidly from his thoughts.

Kakashi looked up, just in time to see them coming on the blue and white building of Konoha's Military Police Force.

Kakshi thought his steps would have hurried. But Sasuke only slowed his pace to a crawl in the busy street, turning to face the steps laid out before them. The noon crowd parted, making their way past them with irritated mutterings of "_damn stragglers_."

His face, as always, remained carefully blank. Yet it was when he was trying his hardest that he was the easiest to read. Kakashi watched his eyes, read his chakra. What he found was a roaring ache muffled by a heavy lid: anger, hate, pain, remorse, grief, all overlaid by a thick coating of weariness, exhaustion, fatigue.

"They changed the colors." He noted dully.

Humming noncommittally, Kakashi closed his book. The emblem that hung over the large glass entrance, once a red-and-white uchiwa, was now only a white outline against a blue background. "They did that about six years ago. But it's still your crest."

"Hn."

"You haven't been by here in all this time?"

With no amount of haste, Sasuke faced the street, falling into a leisurely walk, "I've avoided it."

_Avoided seeing the reminders of what I lost._

The implication hung in the air between them.

Kakashi was about to speak, when Sasuke paused abruptly.

His head was cocked to the side, eyes screwed on a gold plaque that contrasted sharply with the white stone it rested against.

Kakashi knew what it was. Sakura had told him about the ceremony. She was the one who kept up with things like that, always reading the paper or watching the news.

Sasuke looked at the characters slowly. Going over them twice. _In Memory of the Uchiha Clan. _

"This wasn't here before I left."

"No," Kakashi agreed, "it was added a few years ago."

_Elite Shinobi who monitor fellow Shinobi._

How many times had he heard that? How many times had his father recited that phrase, drilled it into Itachi?

_Your efforts will never be forgotten. You lived with honor, and so you shall be remembered. _

_Honor. _What a cheap word that seemed. Had his murder of Itachi brought any honor? Could there be honor in his family's death?

Sasuke passed a hand over the plaque, feeling the raised characters, the metal beneath. It wasn't paint, he noticed. Strange for Konoha to spend so much money on a memorial.

"Don't look so surprised."

His gaze found Kakashi's.

"Plenty of people" he said with the casual drawl he favored, "remember the Uchiha fondly, Sasuke. Much more than those who don't."

"I find that hard to believe." He ground out lowly.

Ignoring him, Kakashi set a path to Ichiraku, "Your father, your family as a whole, did many good things. They helped a lot of people and that's not easily forgotten. Just because you aren't getting hero treatment doesn't mean that extends to your clan."

He spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if Kakashi was remotely right, if people still genuinely respected the Uchiha name. Too bad his only proof was a piece of cold, hard metal.

* * *

The Hyuga compound was burning. Fire painted the night sky a murky orange, flashing through black smoke, leaping from tiled roofs. The smell of ash was thick in the air, mingling with the creak of old wood yielding to greedy, hungry, flames that licked bubbling paint from plaster before swallowing pillars, beams, walls, floors, ceilings. Screams rang freely; mothers, husbands, fathers, wives, daughters, aunts, sons, uncles, grandmothers, nephews, grandfathers, nieces, brides, cousins, grooms. All of them screaming.

It was hell.

It was surreal.

Neji stood, unable to move, watching from the entrance of the gates as the tallest point of the main house groaned, shuttered, and fell into itself, timber snapping, tiles cracking, fire roaring with eager hands. Columns of charcoal reached for the sky, spiraling high in unstopable whorls of buyont clouds. People were running. Shinobi-his clan's shinobi-were breaking into buildings, pulling wheezing, sooty bodies from their depths, white eyes gleaming in their search. Others were drawing water from ponds or fountains, calling blue dragons that charged at the fire, hissing steam as they clashed. A Hinote Squad, men specialized in water, earth, and fire jutsu, joined them, pulling water from the air, smothering with earth, or lulling the fire into sleep. The branch house, where Kinuko would have slept, was a smoldering pile of broken wood. He had never been more grateful than that moment. Because Kinuko, and his newborn son, were safe within Konoha's Hospital, recuperating from ten long hours of labor.

"WHERE IS SHE! WHERE IS HANABI!"

The words registered, and suddenly, Neji wasn't at the gates, but beside his livid uncle and his guards.

His kekkai genkai was activated; veins at his temple erecting angry hills beneath his skin.

Neji followed suit, calling on his chakra. His vision heightened, and he picked through the remains of the East Wing-Hanabi's suites.

They had to bodily stop Hyuga-sama from charging into the churning flames. Neji had never felt such fierceness in his uncle's chakra. It raged around them, a mix of red anger and black grief. Had the head of his security detail not used the Gentle Fist, there would have been no way to stop him, for there, within a cavern made by two fallen, intersecting beams, was the still body of a girl. Fire ate the world around her.

Barking orders, Neji led three jounin into the fray. The suffocating heat around them-the dry exhale of an oven-only grew stronger, until it was overwhelming, painful in the way it wrapped around their skin. Yet they never even made it into the house.

His uncle's voice tore at his eardrums. But it was what he saw that froze the blood in his veins. Another figure, the hazy outline of a woman with long hair, knelt beside the girl. Even with the discoloration offered by his blood trait, even with the compromised detail, he knew it was Hinata, as, no doubt, did his uncle.

He never blinked, was seconds away from breaking into a run, when their outlines vanished. He heard the drop of two bodies on the ground behind him. Twisting, Neji saw as Hinata, arms holding her little sister, fell through the swirl of her transportation jutsu.

Hyuga-sama reached them first, shaking the effects of paralysis. Hinata, dry, rattling coughs pouring from her mouth, was bent over her sister, fingers glowing with chakra. His uncle tilted Hanabi's chin upwards, clearing her airway. With strong hands, he pumped her heart, pausing only to fill her lungs with air. Hinata continued her healing.

Neji held no illusions. Hanabi's chakra paths, a white-violet to his eyes, were stagnant. That meant one of two things: they had been blocked, or she was dead. He said nothing though, and did nothing. Instead, when his uncle cradled Hanabi to him, when Hinata choked on a sob, when she dug her face into her father's shoulder, he turned away. The others did the same, falling into a circle around their clan leader, a shield. Grief was a private affair.

Through the crying of his cousin, the whirling of his uncle's chakra, Neji watched his home burn.

* * *

"You have to tell them."

Neji stood by the shoji screen, staring at his uncle's back.

They were outside the Hyuga Council Room, the only building to have survived the fire. Inside, waited the Elders, six proud, powerful, old men. It had only been hours since the blaze was controlled and they were out for blood. There had been incirminating evidence found within the rubble. Evidence that damned Konoha's Daimyo.

"I will not loose my place in this clan to protect my daughter's murderer."

"_If_," Neji placed special emphasis on the word, "the Daimyo truly ordered this, if it was supposed to act as some sort of warning, then we only have ourselves to blame, Hyuga-sama."

_You only have yourself to blame _was what he meant, and no doubt what his uncle understood.

But this was a man grieving for his daughter, who as they spoke was being prepared for her funeral, who had been dead for all of three hours. He would not be reasoned with.

Hyuga-sama's back remained turned to him. His voice was grating, stiff like the set of his shoulders.

"If you can not tell the Council," Neji tried regardless, "then tell the Hokage. Put an end to this before you set in motion something beyond your ability to control."

Face slowly twisting to meet his, his uncle leveled him with an unyielding stare. "I will hang Hanabi's killer, consequences aside."

Neji could not let this happen. His hand shot out, latched onto his uncle's wrist. It was the first time Neji had ever dared touch him. "This has to stop, Hyuga-sama."

Coldly, his uncle looked down at the grip on his forearm. With a slow tilt, he brought his head up, prying Neji's hand away with calculated movements. "Do not forget your place, boy."

The shoji screen slammed shut in his face. Neji was left standing in the hall outside, eyes swallowing the geometric lines of black wood and the thick texture of rice paper.

Inside, the council gathered.

* * *

He hated summer. What an annoying season; with its cicadas shrilling in the grass, the heat sticking to his skin, the sun beating relentlessly. What god in their right mind would make anyone suffer through this type of humidity? With some effort, he might just be able to draw water straight from the air, squeeze it from his hand and into a canteen. A gnat fell against his sweaty cheek. With an aggravated flick of his hand, he swatted it. Karma seemed to have other plans: he walked straight through a wispy swarm of them.

He _hated_ summer.

When he was younger, he used to like it. He still detested the insects and the heat and the thick air, but there were things that made up for them. Like long weeks away from the academy, like swimming in the lake, like sparklers on hot nights, like watermelons cool from river water, like crunching on shaved ice colored with flavor. Those were always shared with Itachi, who sat by his side, a gentle sort of smile as he watched him struggle against the melting ice. There had been picnics his mother orchestrated, they were rare because his father was always tied up with work or the clan, but they were the best part of summer. Although he didn't think so at the time. Then, the best part of summer had been getting away from the academy; having an open schedule to train with Itachi. After _it_ happened, though, there wasn't anything to loook forward to anymore.

Sasuke reached the door to his apartment, slipping from the heat of the hall and into the cool air of his home. An itch from his neck, not the seal, somewhere to the left of it, forced his hand to paw at the mosquito bite.

He hated summer.

But really, he knew it wasn't the bugs or the temperature that bothered him. No. On the wall in his kitchen, hanging innocently in a slightly crooked tilt, was a calendar. Two columns down, three spaces to the right, was a date; un-circled, unmarked, and to any other person, completely unremarkable. Not to him; to him it was a black scar on the course of the year. This was the real reason he hated summer. Because on that day, that was scarcely a week away, he had lost everything: family, innocence, clan, love. He hated summer; hated the memories that came with it, the dreams that multiplied with ferocious ease, the regret of what could have, should have been.

Yeah, he hated summer.

Standing still in the foyer to his home, gaze resting on the calendar ahead of him, he didn't notice the door until the fourth knock.

The rap of bone on wood, a hollow sort of sound, rang from behind him.

Sasuke pulled on the door abruptly, swinging it open with unnecessary strength, glaring down at the petite package of a woman, arm outstretched, hand fisted and hanging in the air, as if ready to knock again.

Quickly, her face tilted upwards, startled. Her expression shifted easily, smile dawning across the horizon of her lips.

"Uchiha-san!"

Her voice was bright, chirpy, _annoying_, Sasuke contributed. She wore the Force's uniform, green flak jacket with the prominent uchiwa emblem on her chest. The faded green was a compliment to the olive of her skin.

Despite her friendly smile, the admiring set of her eyes, Sasuke tensed as her muscles shifted. His back grew stiff, body ready for an attack. _Never let your guard down_. Orocchimaru had taught him. _Pretty faces come with knives._

There was no attack though, neither verbal, nor physical. Instead, she clapped her hands together and bowed.

Sasuke waited wearily, eyebrows pulled upwards on his brow.

Straightening with a spring of energy, she grinned, "My name's Suzuki Amaya! It's a pleasure to finally meet you Uchiha-san!"

"Hn."

Usually, his clipped answers were habitual. This time though, he genuinely didn't know how to respond.

"I've heard so much about you! Kuniko's always going on and on about you! And at the Force, your father was a legend! Like I said, on and on!"

_On and on_ was right.

She fired her sentences rapidly, one after the other, her words flying from her lips like salmon jumping upstream.

His silence, and obvious confusion, had her reeling herself in. With a sheepish, but slightly oblivious smile, she looked at Sasuke. "I'm supposed to give you an invitation!" She explained, as if that would answer his questioning stare.

It did earn her more than one syllable. "Excuse me?"

"Oh! Gomen, gomen!" She rushed, drawing a hand through her ponytail. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit absentminded at times!"

The comment nearly cost her an insult, but he held back, casually leaning against the doorframe. Etiquette demanded he invite her in, except he wasn't one for etiquette-at least not when it forced him to go out of his way.

"My cousin, Tanaka Chiaki, well, you probably don't remember her, you helped her when she was younger, and well, here."

She held an envelope out to him, practically shoving it into his hand when he moved to take it. His name was printed across in neat, block characters.

It was a calling card-the way old clan's issued invitations. He remembered his mother sitting at the kitchen table, sifting through thick, creamy paper, sometimes setting one aside with a frown she reserved for unwelcome callers.

Gaze still settled on the card, he ran a thumb over the smooth surface.

"Um, she, well," her voice lost some of its speed, its brightness, and garnered his attention.

"She passed away when her baby was born-"

That's when the name and the memory of standing outside a modest home with Sakura stirred up. The silhouette of a pregnant woman, of Tanaka Chiaki, visible through the window.

"A week ago her husband was going through her things and he found something she'd been meaning to give you, its in my uncle's care right now." Her eyes shimmered as she tripped over her sentences. "He wants to give it to you personally."

Quickly grasping his hand in both of hers, she bowed over it, "I'm very glad I got to meet you!" She smiled up at him, an earnest sort of smile that spoke of sheltered years, of life within Konoha's guarded walls, of never having seen any of the bad in the world. How long, he wondered, would that last?

"My uncle was indebted to your father," she continued, "and then to you when you saved his daughter. We are very grateful to you."

Sasuke cleared his throat uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on her as she backed away with a smile.

"We would be honored" she tilted her head forward into a short bow again, "if you accept the invitation. My uncle would have come see you himself, but its hard for him to move around."

The sound of the watchtower clanged through the street. A deep thrum of bells rushing out to them.

Her head snapped to the gold watch on her wrist. "Wow! I really have to go! Chief-sama is going to kill me! You see," she rushed to explain, arms waving in wide gestures, "I'm supposed to be working! I was on my lunch break, but I sorta overextended it because-"

The speed and meaning of her words flew over his head as he watched her, slightly baffled, slightly disinterested.

Another bow and her words slowed enough for him to focus. "Anything you need, Uchiha-san, please don't hesitate to ask! And drop by if you can!"

She left in a flurry of movement and action, taking her jumping-salmon words and her doe-brown eyes.

He stood staring for a minute, watching her pass through the streets, no doubt on her way to the Police Force. He felt the envelope in his hand. It had been well over ten years since an Uchiha received a calling card.

Well, if anything, Suzuki Amaya had given him a distraction. And, he added, looking at the card, peeked his curiosity.

* * *

She sat on the grass, watching the smoke rise. Absentmindedly, she remembered seeing another fire burn into the night. The news had hung over the village for days. It still sprung to life whenever someone mentioned the Hyuga. But that was neither here nor there.

Beside her, Sasuke sat, knees bent to rest his elbows, back against an old pine. They were the only two that were left. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a blue bandana and held it to him.

Without saying a word, he turned his head, looked at it, and took it from her hand.

"What is it?"

"Your wareshi." She told him, holding his eyes for only a moment. She had been tense all day, but now, that the burning was done and that she was alone, yet not, she had fallen into a weary peace. Later she would cry again. But for now, she felt alright, felt at ease in the soft quiet of the night, the gentle heat of the air, and the singing of hidden crickets. What a strange moment to find peace, sitting before the dwindling fire of her fiancé's memorial.

Pulling back on the dyed cotton, Sasuke saw the hitai-ate unfold with each flick of his hand. He knew instantly, that it was Naruto's.

"You're being reinstated, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"I know," Sakura said calmly beside him, "that he wouldn't have wanted it to go into storage. And I wasn't going to burn it."

Sasuke waited silently, running two fingers over the scratched surface. There were indentions in one corner, what looked like melted metal on the side, and a chipped pin. It was testimony to his insane adventures.

"He would have wanted you to have it."

Her voice was certain, eyes unwavering.

Glancing up, he asked "are you so sure about that?"

Fingers pulling up grass from the ground, she nodded. Her hair fell in waves around her.

"Yes. You were his best friend, that never changed. If-" she continued, twirling one green blade in her hand, holding it up face-level, "there was anyone he would have given it to, it would have been you."

"Why did you two wait so long for me?"

Sakura met his question with a stare. "You were our teammate. We spent hours and hours together everyday. Eventually Sasuke, people get attached."

"I thought," he said in his monotone voice, "that you were never my friend."

Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, she waved a hand, "Maybe I lied."

His answering 'hn' was accompanied by the scoff of his breath. Turning over the hitai-ate, he read Naruto's name and serial number. "Am I supposed to use it?"

The black of her pupils rolled to him, a reprimand written within them. "You can do whatever you want."

That wasn't the message her glare sent. It said something alone the lines of _"That's the point, you idiot._"

"What do you want me to do about his ID?"

A sigh escaped her, an exasperated sound that spoke of her patience.

"Take it to the registry office, they'll mark Naruto's as decommissioned and write yours above it."

"Hn."

Testing the strength of the fabric, he tugged at the cloth, "I'll have two now."

"Three," she corrected. "They'll give you an engraved hitae-ate and a blank one for undercover assignments. You'll be treated as a jounin now." Teasingly, she smiled at him, "you did pass the exam didn't you?"

She knew he had. He knew she knew. So he kept silent.

Sakura laughed at the glare he threw her and the sound took him by surprise. When her mouth closed, lips returning to a flat, somber line, green eyes glowing in the fire, he stared. Stared because he wasn't supposed to like the sound of it, yet he did. Stared because her profile was elegant, not stunning or mesmerizing, but still, it caught him. And shit, he wasn't supposed to be staring. Or thinking about the bamboo chime of her laugh on the Burning of his dead friend.

So abruptly did he snap his head to the side that he felt his neck crack.

He only succeeded in gaining her attention. She stared suspiciously at him, stretching her back to get a glimpse of his face.

"Are you…_blushing_?" she said disbelievingly, the last word drawn into an astounded question.

Grinding his teeth, he looked her straight in the eye, and though he could feel heat on his cheeks, he responded unflinchingly "No."

"Wow," she said, staring between him and the fire twelve feet away, "your skin is insanely sensitive. You must really hate summer."

The observation should have quieted him, thrown a shadow over them. But he felt a wistful curl of his mouth pull his lips upward. Maybe it was how innocuously accurate she had been, or how only a day ago he had been repeating that same sentence with a vengeance. Whatever it was, her statement solicited a rather Kakashi-like answer. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he turned to the sky.

* * *

Karin was going to kill him. Forget old crushes. Forget the fact that he was still the hottest man she'd ever laid eyes on. Forget everything. This was hell, it was his fault, and he would pay.

Rosutoshima really was a lost island; a grain of rice in the ocean; a speck of nothing lost among a monstrosity of everything; a fucking drop in the ocean. Who the hell would live here?

Stupid question. The isolation made sense if you were on the run from the Akatsuki. She could see how its inaccessibility was useful to a man like Kisame. Speaking of which.

"Hey!" She roared, dodging the length of his sword-too long, she thought as it grazed the edge of her purple coat. "I only want to talk, you lunatic!"

Kisame, apparently, wasn't up for a chat. He seemed more inclined for surfing. Karin was drenched to the bone from his Bokusui Shouha, and he, he was riding around his little waves like some kid on holiday. It made him a very dangerous man. He also had an endless supply of water at his fingertips. In a move fast enough to rival Itachi-and she had seen Itachi move-he flickered out of existence, leaving her staring at a picture-worthy portrait of white sand, swinging palm fronds, and turquoise water. The soft call of seagulls and the crash of waves was all she heard as he brought his sword around behind her, catching her shoulder with the flat end. Before the impact sent her flying to the ground, she felt a gut-wrenching crack. Stars exploded up and down her arm and back. Stupid, stupid sword. Stupid, stupid man. Stupid, stupid man with his stupid, stupid sword. Grinding her teeth, she leapt behind the cover of a palm. Its sturdy, textured trunk dug into her spine. The pain in her shoulder was breath-stopping. Scapula. Definitely her scapula and definitely broken. She wanted to throw up. That's how bad it was. Gods, if this was how it felt with her adrenaline pumping, when she was fighting tooth and nail for her fucking life, then she didn't want to know how it would feel later, when she had to get it treated, when there wasn't a chemical barrage in her system pushing her to forget pain and move. Move was exactly what she did, a split second early enough to avoid the swipe of his sword hacking through the tree. Karin fell gracelessly on her butt, gaping at the sawed trunk. Crawling to her feet, she disappeared into the forestry. The agony of her shoulder was too much. If she couldn't land a blow on him, then she'd hit his pride. "You know what they say about swords, Kisame-san," she taunted, chest heaving, senses straining. His chakra, where was it? How can anyone with that amount of chakra hide it completely?

"The bigger a man's sword, the smaller his-"

Green flew by her, brown bark swirling with leaves. Her back smacked into sand, a symphony of nerves screamed their way to her brain, then to her voice box, and out her mouth in a shrill yell that shut up every bird within five kilometers. She saw nothing but black for two seconds, then, vision clearing, eyes tearing, teeth gnashing against each other, she stared at the sword at her neck, following it up, up until she found Kisame. His smirk played with the gleam in the beads of his eyes, "want to finish that sentence?"

She didn't care to understand him. Taking her weight off her shoulder was the only clear thought. Screaming, she threw herself to her left side, uncaring for the metal against her skin. In a mixture of sobbing, wheezing coughs, she threw up the meager breakfast she'd caught. The acrid taste didn't even register. His next words were caught on the edge of her consciousness.

"Now, now, don't be falling asleep on ye'r guest girlie."

It was his sword; that damn, fucking sword pushing against her broken shoulder that drew her away from a much wanted blackout. Her scream, if it hadn't been so raw and hoarse, might have been soprano quality.

"Itachi's brother," she rushed in desperation, "Sasuke. He sent me!"

The sword dropped to the ground. When the pressure was gone, the pain remained, but it was a relief nonetheless.

"I'm listening." Kisame said, kneeling, arm hanging around his sword. The look he gave her, like she was some bug he'd found struggling in-between the lines of his sandal, made her blood boil. But Karin wasn't stupid, hotheaded, yes. Stupid, no. She'd learned her lesson. Kisame didn't take to jokes kindly, and she was in no position to make any.

"He believes," she ground out through her clenched jaw, chest heaving, "that Itachi was hiding something important. He's looking for information."

Silence wrapped around them. Kisame stared down at her. He took his time too, so much, that Karin was sure he was watching the sweat build on her skin.

"And what do I have to do with that."

Karin growled, "you're on the run for a reason. Itachi's will and testimony is probably that reason."

Kisame tilted his head to the side, a line of straight, sharp teeth peeking through the sinister curve of his lips. "'Probably' is a risky word to gamble your life on."

"Look, I already know Itachi killed his clan under orders. I just need confirmation before I take that back to Sasuke."

He leaned in closer, pale, sandpaper skin moist from his jutsu, "Aren't you smart. But this isn't about Itachi's orders that night girlie." He snickered, as if the secret he was carrying was some trite, inside joke. "This is about who gave the order and who helped Itachi slaughter his clan."

_Helped_. _Helped Itachi?_ Karin's eyes widened, eyebrows pulling up, "he wasn't alone?"

He seemed to find that funny. It made his grin bigger, "Single-handedly massacre an entire clan of prodigious ninja? Even Itachi wasn't that good."

As the adrenaline died down, the pain in her shoulder was steadily growing worse. Karin bit the end of her tongue. Fight fire with fire, pain with pain. Same concept. "Who?"

Kisame stared at her, and then he threw open his mouth and laughed. Three, great, big, shoulder-shaking chortles. Clearing his throat, he held up a hand, "Gomen girlie, but you ask that as if you expect an answer. Oh-" he said mockingly, catching her straight face, "you do."

He patted her shoulder with two heavy strikes.

Karin twisted her face into the ground, screeching at it. "You son-of-a-"

"Bitch? Yes, my mother was a bitch." Kisame supplied with the same, unchanging smile. "Why don't you try another one? Something more creative."

She was bleeding, soaked in seawater-which wasn't soothing anything-and her shoulder had moved past the borders of intolerable to unbearable. "You seemed to have a problem with that sword comment. Maybe it hit close to home." She snarled, unthinking of the consequences.

His eyes narrowed, "I can show just how far away from home it hit." His hand slipped to the skin of her belly.

"Bastard!" She yelled, wrenching his arm away with her left hand.

Kisame's face fell back into its usual grin, complete with a sinister set of beaded pupils, "That's true too. My father was a married man and my mother was his whore. So I'm their bastard in every way."

Karin didn't know what to say or do anymore. She didn't care for his fucking family tree-although she was pretty sure he was lying-she only cared about getting her information, keeping her life, and sticking about 200 cc's of morphine into the first vein she found.

"Relax girlie. You're too young for me." Moving away from her, he turned his back, leaving her lying there on her side.

"Hey!" She called. "Hey!" Heaving a steadying breath, Karin rocked herself to her knees. Pain, pain, pain. It was getting old.

"Shark-man!"

That stopped him. Turned him around too. One raised eyebrow and one narrowed eye met her, mouth curling downwards into the first frown she'd seen on him. "I'm inclined to cut that red, empty head of that bruised, broken shoulder."

"You tell me what I need to know," she bargained, "and I'll throw Akatsuki of your trail."

When he only watched her, she plowed ahead. This was her chance. "I'm a tracker, a very good one. You're not stupid enough to stay here after I leave-"

"If you leave." He interrupted.

"Even though I don't care about denouncing you. Tell me the info and I'll have Akatsuki chasing their tails for months. And when they finally find Rosutoshima, you'll be long gone."

"The one thing Itachi asked me, was never to let Sasuke know."

Karin stared steadily at his eyes, his grin ever-present.

"Stupid of him to trust a criminal. You've got yourself a deal. And girlie," his face darkened, "you double-cross me and I'm taking you with me to the next life. That jutsu in your shoulder will make sure of that."

"Snapping her head to the side, Karin peered over her shoulder, "What jutstu?"

"The one stuck to the bone."

At her stare, his grin broadened, "what, you really thought a ninja would feel that much pain from a broken scapula? And here I thought Sound was fierce in its training."

* * *

Hyuga Neji was standing on her doorstep. Tenten wasn't sure whether she should slam the door against his nose or stab him with the cooking knife she held in her hand. The latter was most appealing.

"What do you want?"

His voice was weary when he spoke. It made her notice the lines beneath his eyes, the fall of his shoulders. For a man that was always at his best, he looked surprisingly haggard. "May I come in?"

She thought about it. Let the question hang between them as if she were considering it. "No." She finally declined, as she had always intended.

One pale hand, strong despite its appearance, gripped the door when she tried to close it, knuckles white.

He brought his gaze up to hers, brown hair framing the plea in his eyes. "Please."

They stood there, unmoving, stares locked. It was her who lowered her head and stepped aside. He slipped into her apartment quietly, standing beside the door as she closed it.

Moving to the kitchen, Tenten took the leek she'd been cutting in one hand, bringing down the knife with her other. Little green ringlets fell across the board with each pass.  
"Did you come here to stand on my doorstep or say something?"

"I have a message for the Hokage, if you would be willing to deliver it."

Her knife paused mid-air. Setting it aside, she turned to him, wiping her hands against the old sweats she wore. "Why don't you deliver it?"

"Because," he said, hand smoothing the hair at his brow, "I can't be seen walking to the Hokage's the day before she calls my uncle to her office."

"Yet," Tenten added, leaning the small of her back into the counter, "its okay for people to see you walking into my house. _My _reputation, now that's alright to risk."

"Its not about reputation and I'll leave momentarily." he tried to pacify, "But I trust you with this."

Her clipped laughter, embittered as it usually was around him, flowed easily from her lips. Eyes narrowing, she smiled spitefully, "you _trust_ me. I'm sure you do." Taking a step closer she started again, "after all, how many kunoichi let their boyfriend get married? And then, let him fuck her behind his wife's back. How many kunoichi-" she spat, shoving her palm against his chest, old fire in her eyes, "let themselves go from legitimate lover to whoring mistress?"

He caught her wrist in his hand, "stop this."

Twisting her arm, she tried to pull away, but he held tight. "Stop what? The truth? You too much of a coward to hear it?"

Anger flashed over his features. "I wanted you." He broke into her sentence. "As a friend, a companion, a lover, a _wife_."

There were no words exchanged between them for a moment. Slowly, in the silence, he brought his thumb to her cheek, brushing against it.

Tenten felt her heart still in her chest, breath tangling around her lungs. How unfair. How unfair that he could make her tremble, yearn, want. How unfair that he had cast her aside and yet she was so easily lured back. How unfair that Kiba, Kiba who was wild, untamed, arrogant, rough, and kind all at the same time, genuinely loved her. And yet, one touch from him was enough to break her to pieces, to make her forget the flower Kiba had brought her last week, or the time he took her to see the new puppies-eyes still closed-at his sisters clinic, the way he blushed scarlet right before he grabbed her hand in public, or the easy grin he carried around her.

It had been so long since she'd felt his touch. How unfair that she'd missed it.

Neji's breath stirred the skin on her nose, slowly tracing a line to her mouth. He inhaled and it was like he was pulling her skin, her scent, her soul into him. So close. Hi lips were millimeters from hers, the heat between them mixing. A twitch and they would be kissing. She pulled away first, feeling his hand slip down from her cheek to his side.

He exhaled, a wavering sigh, eyes pressed closed as she watched him breathe, until his white gaze met hers.

"That," he said, "is our truth."

Stare settling on the tatami mat of her floor, she shook her head. "No. Our truth became a lie. Your truth is your wife, your son, your clan. My truth is my career, my friends, and Kiba."

She continued before he could. "I'll deliver your message, just-"

A voice, cheerful and feminine, rang behind them. "Hey, Tenten, you're door was open."

Both of them watched Sakura make her way inside, head bent over a bag of groceries, Ino at her side. "I brought the bean sprouts for the rice and I got the-" When she glanced upwards, the smile painted across her face died as easily as her words. "Neji-san."

Neji heard the animosity in her greeting. Looking between her, Ino and Tenten, he tipped his head in a bow. "I'm sorry for having interrupted, Tenten-san. Thank you for your time."

He left without another word.

* * *

Passing through the bamboo forests of Kusogakure had been unfortunate. For the majority of his career Kakashi had avoided the shadowed landscape. Each twist reminded him of things best left in the past. Although Iwagakure held its own memories, he preferred them. It had been a relief when the cool dark of giant bamboo yielded to the arid lay of stony plains.

His companions didn't agree. Though they didn't say anything, he could tell by the way they had swiped at their foreheads angrily, pushing aside their masks, or by the desperate swallow of canteen water.

It _had_ been hotter there than the forest, a veritable hell compared to the chilled air they'd left behind. But to Kakashi, the physical challenge held nothing against his memories. Besides, Iwagakure was their target. Konoha needed information, better said, confirmation. They already knew Rock was allied with Rain. Kakashi and his team had already seen soldiers moving through Kusogakure. Now they needed to know just how committed Rock was to Akatsuki, especially considering they held one of the strongest military forces among the five nations.

"Wolf. Up ahead."

Kakashi followed his line of sight, spotting through the darkness, a reinforced wood door. This was one of Rock's vilest and oldest prisons. The Southern Fortress was famed for three things: security, cruelty, and death rate. Once you were in, you never got out. He was hoping they wouldn't become part of that adage.

Sharingan activated, glowing red in the dim light, he scanned the area slowly. It was important he didn't miss anything. One false move would cost them their lives. And it wouldn't be a quick death either.

"Clear."

The word was barely a whisper past his lips, but it was all the unit strapped to his throat needed.

His team slipped quietly around him. They merged with the shadows like demons from the old legends. He followed in their footsteps, a wraith in their wake.

The Southern Fortress wasn't just any prison. It was also a military stronghold and the place where Rock sent every last one of their POWs. Kakashi was sure there were still ninja here from the last war-at least those tough enough to survive. He couldn't do anything about them though. They were only here for one man. A spy Suna had planted within Rock's government. If he was alive, which they suspected he was-according to the Kazekage he wouldn't have talked-they would find him, get him out, and retrieve the information he had.

Kakashi watched the guards disappear with hardly a wisp of smoke. Behind where they had stood, his teammates appeared. They pushed open the door while his sharingan observed shadows and corners. Things were going well. He hoped admitting it wouldn't jinx them.

Through the communicator at his ear, he heard the deep voice of Yamamoto "Target acquired."

"Secure and proceed." He ordered, sliding down the hall, climbing to the exposed rafters on the roof-that was the blessing of old buildings. Peeking cautiously around a corner, he waved his team forward.

That was when he felt it. _Her. _It was her. He nearly fell to the ground when the chakra signature hit him.

"Wolf?" His second questioned.

Kakashi felt his pulse triple. Nearly two decades. Nearly twenty years since he'd read that chakra signature. He'd thought her dead. "Proceed," he chocked out, "I'll follow. Do _not_ turn back."

When the first word of protest reached his communicator, Kakashi flicked his radio to 'silent.'

Where was she? _Where was she!_

Her chakra was so weak, so easy to pass by. It was disorganized, broken, and leaking sporadically. And her scent, he may have known how to copy a dog's nose, but he was nowhere near as good. He needed help. Lifting a shield around him, he pulled a scroll from his holster, spreading a drop of blood across it.

Pakkun, fur wet, shook himself. Angrily, he glared at Kakashi, "I was in the middle of-"

He cut him off. "Not now."

The severity of his voice reached the pug easily. Setting his jaw, Pakkun turned his head this way and that. "You're in a bind here." he muttered softly, observing the stone walls and the cells lining the hall.

"Her scent. Do you remember it?"

Carefully observing the shinobi, catching his frenzied scent, the set of his bones, Pakkun had no problem identifying who 'her' was. He seemed to puff up, "I can remember a scent for years, of course I-"

"Good. Find it."

The pug let his maw fall open, momentarily stunned. Then, sticking his black nose into the ground, he circled, once, twice, thrice, sniffing loudly.

"We're at the Southern Fortress." Kakashi warned.

A shadow of fear crossed over him, but Pakkun persevered. Head snapping to the right, he stared into the dark, where her trail led him. "Heaven and Hell! She's really here."

And with that, he shot off, Kakashi following.

"Fifth door." Pakkun whispered gruffly, wearily eyeing the guards with his round eyes.

Just one look, Kakashi prayed. One look. Picking a pebble from his sandal, Kakashi dropped it across the hall. Three heads whipped his way. Without wasting a moment, he stared at them with the sharingan. They were lost in a genjutsu before they knew what hit them.

Kakashi gripped the handle to the door, hand shaking as he pushed aside the iron tumblers in the lock. Pakkun settled his gaze on him when he hesitated. He was afraid to push on the old wood. Afraid of what he'd find.

Stealing himself, Kakashi shoved slowly into the room.

The smell was horrible. Beside him, Pakkun whined, pawing at his nose.

Kakashi's heart stopped. Back resting against one wall, she lay on the floor. She was a skeleton of a woman. So antonymous to the girl he remembered that he wondered if it was really her. Taking a tentative step forward, he watched her face. Her brown eyes were open, staring through him rather than at him. He kneeled before her, gently pushing her matted hair away from her face. "Hey." He called.

She didn't respond, didn't even move her gaze away from his knee.

His breath hitched in his mouth and his fists clenched on either side of her. But now was not the moment for sentimentalities. Resolve hardening, Kakashi slipped an arm beneath the frame of her neck. Now, she needed him. And this time, he would be there for her.

He pulled her into his hold, finding no resistance. She weighed nothing as he carried her away from the Southern Fortress.

* * *

Every year, when the 13th rolled by, he devised a way to avoid it. Usually it included four to eight carafes of sake or plum wine. On those rare occasions when Karin actually had anesthetics, he'd raid her first aid kit and shoot himself up. He wasn't an addict. It wasn't something he did regularly. Just once every 365 days.

With his index finger, he counted six pills; six red, oblong capsules resting innocently in the palm of his hand. He had been planning this since the moment he'd read the unmarked date on his calendar. At 100 milligrams each, six pills would give him 600 mgs of knockout-worthy power. Twice his original prescription. He'd be sleeping until late the next morning. Perfect.

Then again, the best laid plans often go astray. Stuffing the pills deep into his pocket, Sasuke reached for the door, already registering her chakra.

"Ohayou!" She chirped.

For a minute, he was thrown a decade back. Both of them were preteen genin and she was knocking down his door with that cheek-splitting smile she always wore.

Eyebrows cocked, he waited for her to talk, anxious to get her out of his house.

With a scoff, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, be that way. You know Sasuke," she said, pushing past him into his apartment, as if it was normal for her to barge into other people's privacy. "I don't know how you ever get yourself a girl at night. You're frigid."

Had he been drinking something, he was almost sure he would have fought back a choke.

Contemplating the ceiling, she put a finger to her chin. "Hmm? Maybe you've _never_ gotten a girl. Does that mean you're still a virgin?"

He definitely would have choked. Glaring violently, he crossed his arms. "Sakura, is there something you wanted?"

Resting her weight against one elbow on his kitchen counter, she sighed, her voice settling. "Yes, actually. I need your input."

"On what?"

"On Jugo."

Sasuke held open the door, "you can get it tomorrow."

Neither of them moved. Her stare was steady as she cocked her head. "No, you see, I need it ASAP. It turns out, the team will be arriving tomorrow, and I need to get a hospital room ready. I'll be part of a group of specialists treating him."

"Sakura," he warned when she stepped further into the kitchen, testing the weight of an iron pan. "Come back later-"

His words flew by unnoticed. Instead she reached into the fridge, pulled out a carton of eggs and cracked one into the pan. "How about some breakfast? I make a wicked tomato omelet."

She was acting like the girl he'd left behind. It was a façade she wore occasionally, he noted. It also unbalanced him. He found he had a hard time interacting with her when she was like that, just as he'd had a hard time getting used to the 'new' Sakura.

"Is this why you're trying to get rid of me?"

A glass prescription bottle dangled from her fingertips.

"There are four pills in here Sasuke, yet there's ten days left before your refill." She read from the label.

The smartest in her class and on their team. Indeed.

"You know," she persevered, setting the container aside as she mixed two eggs straight in the pan, setting it away from the fire. "You'd be asleep until tomorrow morning."

That had been his intention.

"Good thing I came so early!" Picking a tomato from the fridge, she held it to the light, softly pressing down where she thought it had gone bad. Satisfied, she rinsed it under the sink. "Still good. Where are your knives?"

Enough was enough. "Sakura." His voice was firm and carefully restrained. "Get out."

Appraisingly, she measured his stare without responding. When she found he wasn't coiled tightly enough to spring, she spoke. "Are you always going to ignore it? Just blow-off the day they were killed?"

His fists clenched. This was not her business. This was not her place.

"Are you going to dishonor them that way?"

"Don't. Don't talk to me about _my_ family."

"Yes," she bit, "_you're_ family. The same family that you haven't visited in a decade. Never once brining them flowers, sitting down to remember. Lighting an incense for them. How do you think your mother feels?"

He was on her in the blink of an eye. Sakura didn't flinch, though there was fear in her gaze as she looked up at him, nearly nose to nose-or nose to chin, as it were. His proximity reminded her of how tall he'd gotten, and that he was still a variable in everyway. She could feel his chakra simmering around them.

"My mother," he whispered, leaning close to the side of her head, biting the words off softly-like poison-into the shell of her ear, "is dead." His breath stirred her hair.

Gathering her courage, eyes narrowed, she pushed close to him, mimicking his movements. "_That's the point_."

He backpedaled, nostrils flared with the speed of his breathing. He was shaking with the effort to keep himself in check. "Get out. Before I do something I regret." His hand gripped the edge of the counter, nails biting into it.

Sakura turned her back on him-a taboo in the ninja world, or a sign of great trust. Rummaging through his drawers for a knife, she told him as much. "I trust you."

He left her there, marching into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. The resounding bang echoed through the apartment, making her recoil, her features cringing. Nonetheless, when the omelets were finished, she followed, setting it beside him on a nightstand.

He was still coherent-sitting up and staring out the window-so she guessed he hadn't drugged himself, or at least there were no signs of it-yet.

Her chopsticks clattered against the plate. "You want to tell me about Jugo?"

A clock ticked in the quiet. The glow of early sunlight strained through the room.

Not looking her way. Sasuke cleared his throat, voice distant. "He's the key to Orochimaru's seal. He's the original."

Slipping the chopsticks from her lips, Sakura worked around the food in her mouth. "So, he was the first experiment?"

Sasuke grabbed the plate from the nightstand, looking at it blankly, "No. Jugo's transformation, as far as I know, occurred naturally. Orochimaru developed the curse seal from an enzyme he isolated in his blood."

The information caught Sakura slightly off-guard. "Natural? That's crazy!"

He scoffed beside her, holding up a piece of omelet. "He is crazy."

"What about the episodes he has. Tell me about those."

Picking at his food-a fact Sakura did not appreciate, but for the sake of their ceasefire, left unmentioned-Sasuke thought about the best way to describe it.

"He's unreasonable during it, enraged and ready to kill. Although we discovered he doesn't derive enjoyment from a kill, neither during the episode or after."

Sakura licked her lip. "How predictable are the episodes?"

"They're not. Sound used to call him Scales or Bipolar Jugo, both references to his instability. We know he can be set of by violence or when he's angered. But other than those triggers, his fits are random."

"How strong is he?" She asked, taking the last piece of her omelet.

"Strong enough to destroy the hospital you'll be keeping him in."

Sakura offered him a flat look. "You're always so reassuring."

Sasuke ignored her.

"Its good, that you're bringing him here." She finally said, glancing at his profile.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Modest and arrogant. Odd combination. By the way, he really isn't arriving tomorrow."

He watched a grin blossom across her face.

"I lied!"

Sakura stayed well into nightfall, drilling him with questions, and later, dragging him to a tea house…that served more alcohol than tea. When he was drunk enough to fall straight into bed, she followed him to his apartment, because let's face it, Uchiha Sasuke would never let himself be walked home.

* * *

Ino waited for her at the local Kouhi-kouhi. It was her friend's favorite coffee house, an import from Cloud that had taken root in Konoha and spread to every neighborhood. Sakura walked under the large, navy blue umbrellas, the shop's signature color. A tail of long, blond hair fell over the wrought iron back of a chair. Following it, Sakura sat herself down in the seat opposite Ino.

"Pig." She greeted.

Ino should have responded with the classic 'Forehead,' or some other insult. Today, however, she deviated. The words burst from her mouth in an explosion of ecstatic shrieks. "I think he's proposing!" Her hands slapped over her mouth afterwards, as if she'd spilled some unmentionable secret-not that that was anything odd for Ino.

Slowly, Sakura looked from her menu to Ino, then back again. She had become used to her antics. Experience demanded she remain calm, investigate the facts, and then react. "Who's proposing?"

Ino seemed to take offense at this. Mouth falling open into a loud "bagh!" and arms reaching for the sky, she cried, "Shikamaru! Who else?"

Shikamaru, by Ino's count, had already proposed twice. Once, when Ino heard from a friend who was the cousin of the sister of the woman who ran a jewelry store that he was looking at rings; then again when he planned a special evening at an expensive restaurant, at which he kneeled to the ground after dessert-he was looking for his earring.

It was reasonable that Sakura wasn't overly exited. "Who's the source?"

"Me!" Ino grinned, pointing at herself with both hands. "Who better!"

"And what," Sakura investigated absentmindedly, deciding between a Green-Milk tea or a Heart-Attack (three different chocolates blended with four espresso shots and garnished with extra-heavy cream).

Lowering her voice, Ino leaned in conspiringly. "I found the ring."

Well, that was worth a look. Sakura put down her menu. "So you think this is really it?"

Finally having drawn her friend into her own piece of cloud nine, Ino clapped her hands, "YES!"

Smiling, Sakura asked about the ring. This was a required question, especially by Ino's standards.

"Oh! Don't even get me started!"

That was Sakura's hint to settle in. Resting her back against the chair, she put her arms on either side and got comfortable.

"it's a silver band with a round-cut single diamond. But if you see the size of it! And the facets and clarity! Its gotta be, I don't know, 90 karats!"

"Ino," Sakura shook her head teasingly, "engagement rings are rarely more than half a karat."

"I know that! I was obviously exaggerating, Forehead!"

But that didn't derail her from the description.

By the time their waiter came, Sakura knew what casing the ring was housed in: teal leather with silver engravings and a black, silk interior.

"I mean, its not a Dubanti!" She acknowledged, referring to the world class jewelers, "But its spectacular. And," she smirked jokingly, "I'm sure I can teach him about brands after we're married."

Sakura coughed over the rim of her drink, "slow down, Pig. I know it looks good, but what if you're rushing again?"

Rolling her eyes, Ino stirred her seventh sugar cube into her drink. Sakura eyed the cemetery of wrappers scattered around her cup warily. She was sure Ino had not been paying attention.

"So I made one mistake-"

"Two," she corrected.

"_Two-_" Ino drawled, "-stupid mix-ups. It could happen to anyone." She set her spoon down, sitting up straight in her chair, blue eyes glowing with hope. "But I can feel it. This is it!"

Sakura didn't have the heart-or the patience-to fight her. "Alright Ino-pig. I'll be the best maid, of course."

Her smile eclipsed half the block, "Of course! Oh and the flowers! We'll have the most beautiful wedding!" She gushed, no doubt flying through the possibilities her family's shop would offer.

"Speaking of which," Ino's expression shifted, falling into what Sakura recognized as _gossip mode_.

"I bet you wouldn't guess who dropped by yesterday morning."

Ever since her genin days, Sakura's taste for gossip had dwindled, but for conversation's sake, she pretended interest.

"Who?"

"Uchiha Sasuke."

Alright. Maybe she wasn't quite so disinterested.

Taking a sip of her Heart-Attack, Sakura raised an eyebrow, _go on_.

Flawlessly, Ino continued. "He walks in, owner of the word as you well know, and orders, no demands-" she amended. Dramatic emphasis was an integral part of the delivery "-a bushel of flowers and a pack of incense."

Sakura stared for a minute, suddenly ashamed she'd let Ino tell her about his affairs. But it brought a smile to her lips nevertheless.

"Don't know what that was about, and-"

The absence of sound reminded her Ino was talking. She refocused, finding Ino's analytical gaze settled on hers.

It was never a good thing when Yamanaka Ino looked at you that way. It meant she was figuring something out.

"What's with that smile?"

"Nothing." Sakura stuttered, burying her nose into her drink.

A wicked gleam entered Ino's stare. "You know why he bought it."

She shook her shoulders casually.

"And you're happy about it."

It was moments like these when Sakura saw Ibiki's efforts paying off. Ino would make a great interrogator.

Gripping her cup casually by the handle, Ino's mouth curled into a full, satisfied smile. The type you'd see on a cat that'd eaten a canary _and_ a pitcher of crème; make that two pitchers.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that's the smile of a girl with a crush."

Scoffing, Sakura rolled her eyes. "Well, then it's a good thing you know better."

Ino laughed, dipping a rice cookie into her drink-a lop-sided cap of whipped cream resting over it-before plopping the entire thing into her mouth.

"_Mmmm_!" She groaned for half the coffee shop, eyes rolling skyward as she used one hand to hide her mouth.

When a woman told her little girl-who had asked _"what's wrong with the blond lady"_-to stop staring, Sakura felt embarrassment color her face. That was the thing with Ino. Exaggeration, bold expression, loud, in-your-face gestures were her signature. Just as much as short tempers and hitting people were Sakura's.

"We have to go shopping again. Tommorow?" She managed obliviously between chewing and swallowing.

Sakura shook her head dismissively, "I'm meeting with Suzuki-san."

"Rain check then." Pausing right before taking a sip of her drink, Ino's eyebrows scrunched in question. "Hey," she said, looking at her hand, "where's your ring?"

Sakura glanced at her finger briefly. "I put it away." She murmured, more to her coffee than to Ino.

"Oh." Ino deadpanned. Silence hung between them. Setting her cup down with a _chink_, she reached across the table, placing her hand over Sakura's, squeezing briefly.

Her eyes were warm when she spoke, wrinkling slightly at the corners from her smile. "You have a right to move on, Sak. No shame in that."

Sakura remained quiet, looking out at the people walking on the street.

It was Ino's next sentence that saved her mood.

"Ugh! How much sugar did I put in this?"

* * *

"You could have cost your entire team their lives! You could have cost us the mission!" Tsunade growled, slapping a hand on her desk.

Kakashi sat in a slouch, as he always did. But his eyes, usually mellow, were severe, jaw set in a straight line.

"Hatake!"

His gaze refocused. Standing with little hurry, Kakashi put a hand in his pocket.

Tsunade felt her anger flare. That damn, cocky, idiot! Just like his student!

"If you had the chance-" Kakshi said levelly, voice deep and grave. It was a tone rarely used by him. "-to bring Dan or Jiraiya home, would you leave it?"

Her heart shrank. That layer of metal that had wrapped itself around it squeezed mercilessly. Face loosing most of its rage, but none of its hardness, Tsunade fell back against her seat. Cheeks pale, the Hokage did not move her stare from his. They both knew the answer to his question and it was a rather underhanded blow.

Lips thin with tension, Tsunade changed the topic. "What did Suna's agent have to say?"

Kakashi, somewhat ashamed, although no less apologetic, began his report. "Rock is providing raw materials and some troops. They're not committing to the war, though. They're kage was afraid the Akatsuki would double-cross them, strike them after the war, when their numbers and supplies were weakened."

"Smart man."

"Woman." Kakashi amended. "Their kage had a stroke. His replacement is a woman from their council."

Tsundae's brow wrinkled. Last she'd heard, Iwa's kage was perfectly healthy. "Any suspicions?"

"The agent says there was foul play. Their new kage is trying to strengthen the alliance between Rock and Rain. She wants full mobilization."

"Brilliant." Tsunade sighed, resting her temple against her hand.

Kakashi shifted from his right foot to his left. He felt anxious to get to the hospital, to see her. "There's more." He added, remembering the importance of their findings. He'd waited decades, he could wait a few more minutes. "Rain is building an army of civilians."

The sentence chilled the room. The Hokage's eyes widened. _What! _When Kakashi had first told her Rain was training civilians, she'd assumed they were supplementing their shinobi ranks with shoddily trained men and women. It had been done before. But a civilian _army_? That was unheard of! What village would put their civilians on the front lines. They'd be slaughtered!

"They're giving them basic defense instruction, tactical training, leadership lessons, and arming them with UWS-sorry, guns. Lots of guns."

"Do we have numbers?"

Pulling from his jacket a scroll, Kakshi unwound it, setting it down on her desk. His finger landed next to a five figure digit.

"_Drawing recruits from across the nation…An estimated force of-" _She cut herself off. Rereading the number silently. _30,000. 30,000? 30,000!_ "This had better be an outstanding error on your part, Hatake." Tsunade said, looking up at him.

He remained silent.

"Dismissed." She whispered, already reaching underneath her desk for her sake.

Just as he was crawling from the window, Tsunade stopped him. Staring at the cup she held aloft, she spoke: "And Hatake. You're suspended for the week." It was a favor more than a punishment. They both knew it. _Spend some time with the girl, _was what she meant.

"Hai, Hokage-sama."

Knuckles sharp from the pressure he had on the window-frame, Kakashi turned his head. "Hokage-sama."

She hummed a reply.

"Arigato."

Tsunade scoffed as he dropped from sight. Swirling the sake in her hand, she glanced down at the scroll once more. That's twice she'd done him a favor. And what does she get for it? A shitload of bad news and one word of gratitude. What a crappy, thankless world. "Kampai," She toasted the empty space of her office, downing the cup in one go.

* * *

The Suzuki residence was more than he expected. By all appearances, Tanaka Chiaki had married down. Sasuke took in the wide gate, passing under it and through immaculate gardens of stone, bamboo, and Konoha Willows. The trickling of a fountain drew his eye. Something about it teased at his memory. In front of him, a long mane of pink hair swished freely. Sakura walked the pebble path with familiarity, leading him around bends, away from the main entrance, the hand at her side clutching an overstuffed file. "_For a project." _She had told him when they met on the path.

Sakura ducked beneath a canopy of jasmine vines, her dress flowing freely as she stepped onto the engawa before tapping the frame of a shoji screen.

"Pardon and good morning." she called through the door, a traditional greeting.

Eyes watched the ease with which she carried herself, the knowledge of the grounds, and the calm tone of her voice. "You've been here before."

She glanced at him, skin a milky contrast to the red of her clothes. "I interned here during my apprenticeship. The family owns an apothecary-"

That explained her relationship to the girl's (Amaya's?) family.

"-I have a meeting with Suzuki-san, so i'm guessing its her son you'll be seeing."

He didn't offer her any clues. Not that she expected the effort.

With the sound of wood sliding on wood, the shoji screen peeled open, the mild face of a stout woman looking at them, curious at first, then breaking into recognition. "Sakura-chan!" She exclaimed genuinely; her arms, thick and sturdy, wrapped around Sakura's thin frame, enveloping her within the sleeves of a navy yukata.

"Well, come in, come in! I see you've been too busy for us civilian folk!" she chided as Sakura toed her sandals off, cheeks reddening. Her accent, as much as her name, told of a farmer's birth, of growing up in the rural countryside outside Konoha.

Sasuke watched their interaction from the entrance, reluctantly resting his shoes beside him. The soles of his feet sucked up the chill from the floorboards.

"Don't say that, Kuniko-san." Sakura rebuffed guiltily, "I've been by the shop."

That did nothing to pacify her. "The shop!" Her arms waved, "Well, I'm never at the shop, now am I?" It took a new face to deviate her attention.

Looking beyond Sakura's shoulder, the almond brown of her eyes found his, something of surprise, nostalgia, and delight lit them. "You're just the splitting image of her!" She cried brazenly, one fist resting on her broad hip.

He didn't need to ask. His blank stare, accented by one thin, tilted eyebrow was words enough.

"Your ma." she clarified.

Hands clamped around his chest. He didn't let the jolt show. "You knew her."

"And you!" She laughed shortly, a full huff of air. "You were just a skinny rice shoot when you came here. You probably don't remember."

"I obviously don't."

Sakura shot him a glare, biting a harsh "_Sasuke!"_ under her breath.

The smile curving the woman's lips didn't dim at his remark. "The face of your ma and the mouth of your pa! What a mix!"

"Kuniko-san, if we may, is Suzuki-san at home?"

Her almond stare rebounded to Sakura, lips turning upwards at the corner, "Come this way."

Sasuke remained silent, following her through the dark halls of the home when she turned, tatami matts springing underfoot. A rice-paper screen, decorated with the faded impression of a dragon caught his attention. A strange portrait for a family home. He remembered now. It was years ago, many, many years ago when he had walked this hall. Then, it was not a trail of pink hair he followed, but a mane of black, his hand clutching onto hers as they were guided by a thinner Kuniko. He had looked up, catching sight of the screen. At the time, his eyes had widened. It was the first time he'd seen a such a large dragon mural. He had thought it odd-and frightening.

Sakura, feeling him pause, turned her face. Kuniko followed suit, a knowing smile on her face. "You remember now?"

"Hn."

A rough laugh peeled its way from her throat. "That screen used to scare the spirits out of you! Mikoto-san would always hold your hand when you passed by it."

Ignoring the interest in Sakura's expression, and the memories Kuniko was stirring, he moved on, stopping only to let her lead the way.

"Suzuki-san?" She called through a sliding door, tapping on its frame. "Your guests are here."

A feminine voice, light, but with the hint of strength and experience rang clear as a bell. "Come in, Kuniko."

Kuniko pushed the door open, bowing them in. A woman, in an elegant yukata kneeled at a low table. She had a tea cup waiting before her and a business ledger cradled in her thin, wrinkled hands.

Pulling her glasses from her nose, she let them fall around her neck, held there by delicate gold links. Her face moved to theirs, a smile greeting them as she shifted, ready to stand. "Sakura-chan! Uchiha-san!"

Sakura stepped forward quickly, "Please, Suzuki-san, no need to get up."

But the old woman had the air of a leader around her, someone who had seen much of the world and taken it all with a straight back and a calm demeanor. She seemed surprisingly put-together for someone who had lost a granddaughter less than a year ago.

With a grace that defied her age, she eased herself up, bowing gently to them. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to my home."

When Sakura bowed back-reverantly-Sasuke followed her example, though, admittedly, with less depth.

"You've grown handsomely, Uchiha-san."

It was a poignant reminder. Sasuke felt uneasy here, around walls and people who had known his family, who had been close enough for his mother to have visited.

He watched the woman seat herself, replacing her glasses. Not a wrinkle appeared on her neatly tucked yukata. She motioned Sakura to join her.

"I would ask you to stay for tea, but I believe-" She told him, looking to her ledger. "-it is my son who is expecting you. You will find him in the garden."

That was as much a dismissal as he needed.

"Come on Sasuke-kun-"

The suffix made his mouth curl.

"Oh, gomen," Kuniko shrugged, uncaring, "but you were young enough for 'kun' when you last came here. Old customs, as we say in the country, break hard."

She guided him through more doors, across a short stone bridge, and to a raised porch, safely tucked between a pond and an ancient, twisted tree, its branches reaching far over them, the shadow of a giant gentling the heat. Her mouth never closed once. Not until the figure of man, comfortably resting on a wicker chair on the porch, appeared. A cane, black, polished wood, leaned into his armrest.

Bowing, Kuniko announced him, leaving him with a smile and a man he didn't know-or remember knowing.

They measured each other without words; Sasuke catching the deep shadows beneath his eyes, the hollowed face, the papery skin, and the sapling-thin body of the sick-poorly disguised by his loose outfit; Suzuki seeing the tall frame of a young man, the hair and eyes of his mother, the sour set of his jaw, and the hard, empty gaze of a man who'd seen hell.

Bowing with a nod of his head, Suzuki spoke first. "Welcome, Sasuke-san. It is a pleasure to see you again."

The empty chair across the table screeched against the porch as he pulled it towards him.

"Everyone in this house knows who I am."

"You were a regular visitor," Suzuki began, "many years ago."

There had been moments in his life when Sasuke wondered about his family's friends. Surely they must have known more than acquaintances beyond the clan. There had to have been good bonds elsewhere. Where were they in the years after their murder, when he most needed the influence of an adult?

"I was never reminded." He said coldly.

Suzuki considered his tone, reading it. Leaning forward he poured two cups of tea. "Would you like some? This is Mountain White, from the ranges of Snow Country. My family has spent the past fourteen years cultivating it. Chiaki was actually born in Snow."

Sasuke took the cup from his hand, smelling clean, bitter notes through the steam. "It's a rare tea." He offered, neither ashamed nor apologetic, but tempered.

"It has been well received."

Pulling a manila envelope from his side, Suzuki reached into it. "I called you here for two reasons. One-" He set before him a plain, unmarked envelope, "was to give you Chiaki's letter. The other-" here he dropped a picture, "-was to show you this."

Sasuke, looking up once at Suzuki, picked the picture first. Four faces, three of them children, greeted him. Jiraiya's genin team was his first guess.

"What do you see?"

"Jiraiya." He supplied automatically. There was no mistaking him, nor the person beside him. "Naruto's father."

"Very good." Suzuki encouraged. Stretching a thin wrist, he pointed at Jiraiya, "The Toad Sage was much younger here, and Naruto's father was only dreaming about becoming Hokage."

Sasuke's eyebrow crawled higher on his brow. "Hokage?"

Suzuki hummed, "Namikaze Minato, the Fourth Hokage. Like father like son."

The academy never taught him that Namikaze had a son. In fact, he hadn't so much as seen a picture of Namikaze: as if Konoha had tried to erase him.

"Naruto thought he was an orphan."

"Technically-" Suzuki said, mixing a spoon of honey into his tea, face neutral. "He was. He just didn't know his parentage. I don't know if it was ever revealed to him. Now,-" He pressed, sidestepping the subject, "what else?"

Glancing down, Sasuke had a difficult time matching the chubby boy on the right of the frame with the sick man in front of him. But the tan skin, the narrow eyes, the coal hair, the broad jaw. It was enough for an assumption. "You."

Nodding with a calm smile, Suzuki took a sip of his tea. "That's right. And what about her?"

There wasn't a guess he could safely offer. Shrugging he held the picture closer.

"You don't recognize her?" Suzuki said, leaning into his chair. "She should be familiar. She gave birth to you."

He nearly crumpled the image, muscles tensing with formidable force. "What?" He strained.

Suzuki's voice was gentle as he spoke, eyes observing carefully. "That, was your mother."

Sasuke could hear his own pulse, hear the pounding of his heart, the rushing of his blood in his ear. Her skin was pale, the same shade of milk-white he shared. It made Namikaze's look rosy by comparison, just as his had when he stood next to Naruto. There was the hair, jet black, like his and Itachi's, and the eyes, obsidian. How could he _not_ have known? His thumb stroked her hair-as if he was actually reaching through a barrier of glossed paper to find her, to feel the flesh and blood that was copied into an image. If a picture could hold a soul, like the islanders of the east believed, would this one hold hers? Even a part of it?

"She was always beautiful."

Sasuke's head snapped up. To his shame, his eyes were moist, pressure building behind them along with a telltale burn. He looked away from Suzuki's knowing stare, settling on the profile of his mother, of Uchiha Mikoto as a genin with her hair tied back, red headband holding off her bangs.

"At the time, she was twelve, and I had just turned thirteen. I'd failed my first year at the academy." He admitted, laughing softly at himself. "An apothecary's son doesn't have the best foundation for becoming a ninja."

"Is that why-" Sasuke said choppily, drawing in a breath to steady his voice, "-is that why she came by here so often?"

"Yes." Suzuki confirmed. "We were good friends. We grew apart though, life pulled us its separate ways." He paused, looking at the leaves of the giant tree overhead, watching them shift in a lazy breeze as Sasuke stared at his mother's picture, flickering shadows from the canopy waving across it.

"I had wanted to marry her, you know."

Eyes whipping up, Sasuke waited for him to continue.

Suzuki played with the cup in his hand, face still tilted skyward, features molded into melancholic content, his smile an echo of his memories, of good times gone past. "I was jealous of Minato-san. He was only ten years old and already a genin. His worst offense, however, was the crush I thought he had on your mother. It made us bitter rivals, even though Mikoto paid little attention to us."

Sasuke closed his eyes; let the words sink into him; let his mind build a picture of his mother as Suzuki painted her. He imagined the three of them: Namikaze at the left, perhaps acting like Naruto, Suzuki on the right, both glaring at each other, and her, in the middle, with genuine laughter brought by their arguing. "At that age, what was she like?"

"What do you remember her like?"

He pulled for those memories of her. He had encoded them as best he could, preserved them between the folds of his mind like a painter safekeeping his portraits. "She smiled often." _Her voice was gentle, calm, patient. _He cataloged within his mind. _She never seemed angry or serious. But she had a temper, it came out when my father did something she didn't like. "_She was always humming-" He said aloud at last "-all over the house, as she cooked or cleaned, switching between songs every few hours."

Suzuki was staring at him. Reaching for more tea, he told him: "you remember her fondly. She was much the same in her youth, but more impulsive, serious, always trying to prove herself. Would you believe-" he laughed at his thoughts, "-that she single-handedly pursued an S-class criminal when we were genin?"

He swallowed the stories like a man starved for water, taking every last word.

"-And," Suzuki continued some four cups of Mountain White later, "-your father came to help us. I don't think Mikoto could have chosen better. He was a good man."

"My father was a cold man, if anything." Sasuke retorted. Eyes hardening at the new turn in the conversation.

Regarding him silently, Suzuki let go of a heavy sigh. He pushed himself higher in his seat, straightening his back. "I used to speak of my own father in the same way." There was old regret in his eyes. "I thought him cruel, tyrannical, uncaring." He listed, punctuating each vice with a flick of his hand. "To this day I wish I had known him better. There are many things, Sasuke-san, that we do not know about our parents. These things can tear them from the pedestals we've made for them, or build them from the craters we've buried them in. Your father loved your mother, he loved your brother, and he loved you."

"Then why," Sasuke said, digging his free hand into the edge of the table, the other grasping the picture "did he not show it?"

Suzuki shook his head. "You were too young to understand his mannerisms. You resemble him, distant, aloof, cold, and strong both in skill and character. But that does not mean you are cruel. Perhaps a bit of a brute-" he joked with a shallow laugh, "-in your ways with others, but not unkind."

"You don't know me-" Sasuke stopped him quickly. "-or the things I've done." His gaze was charecteristaiclly empty, guarded.

Suzuki's was not. His eyes held no barriers over his thoughts. "I know enough." He rested his chin on his hand. "When my eldest son was born, I was younger than you. I was inexperienced, immature, and arrogant. I did not want to adapt to the schedule of a child, so I left him with his mother-who was steps from divorcing me-" He scoffed lightly, self-depreciatively, "we were so young." He took a long breath, exhaling slowly. "In any case, I did as I pleased; taking missions, expanding my business, drinking with friends, everything and anything. One night, thirty-five years ago, a group of men broke into this house. They were the same band of rogue shinobi that had left a trail of gold and blood over three countries. The M.P.F. stopped them, more specifically, your father's team. It was the first time I met him, and already I owed him my family."

Sasuke had remained silent through the entire telling, face downcast, picture still held in his hand.

"Perspictive changes everything. To you, Fugaku was a father, but never a dad. To me he was a friend, and a good one. Tell me, what do you know about him?"

He barely knew _anything_ about him. His father was an enigma, a stranger that shared his blood. He knew more about Kakashi. "He was a jounin. He graduated top of his class. He liked to spend his evenings on the engawa. He liked solitude, he'd spend time on the edges of the Uchiha grounds, even if he wasn't training. He was the head of the M.P.F. The head of the clan-"

"Actually," Suzuki interrupted pleasantly, "your mother was."

Sasuke's blank face pressed him on.

"Your mother was the first daughter of the main house. Your father was the son of a distant relative, so far removed they had thought there was no possibility of him developing the sharingan-though he did. Mikoto was glad to share the responsibility. Now, go on." He waved with his hand.

_He demanded excellence, always pushing me and Itachi. He was unyielding_. Sasuke curled his fingers into a fist. _I have one memory of him praising me; just one. And I can never, ever remember him showing me affection._

But these were things Sasuke would not say, so instead: "He was unforgiving." He uttered.

Suzuki passed a hand over his face. "Well, that's enlightening. Alright, I'll tell you the Fugaku I knew."

"He was cold, yes, but he was kind. If you had had the fortune of knowing him now, as you should have, you would know this. You're old enough to see underneath the underneath-that is what Hatake-san says, isn't it?" He asked curiously, trying to remember. "I believe that's what Sakura-san told me once."

Sasuke did not confirm his question, just fingered the wrinkled edge of the picture in his hand.

"-Your father had a bitter childhood. His own father was violent, volatile. He beat him frequently.-"

_"Why do I only have one ojii-san?"_

_"Because you do."_

_"But everyone at the academy has two."_

_His father had looked at him oddly then. Kneeling, he took Sasuke's chin in his hand. "The one you have is a good one. Be satisfied with that._"

The interaction made much more sense now then it did then.

"-His mother." Suzuki sustained, "-left when he was four. At age six, he threw himself into the academy, to escape his house. If he could be stronger, he had thought, he could defend himself against his father. He told me that he wanted his children to be strong enough to never yield before anyone, that he would make it so himself."

Suzuki stared at the ground, feeling Sasuke's gaze on him. "Did you know, your father visited the grave of every victim he lost? He believed he carried their deaths on his shoulders. Once, we spoke on this very porch, drowning a bottle of plum wine. He sat in that chair." His index finger pointed at Sasuke.

Sasuke looked away, ignoring the comment. Suzuki's next words could not be ignored, because he had never thought his father capable of it.

"It was the first-and only-time I saw him cry."

Having caught the young man's attention, Suzuki continued, eyes distant. "Mikoto, sometime after Itachi was born, fought off a serious illness. At one point, your father thought he would loose her. It was the…" he struggled for the correct phrasing "rawest I'd ever seen him at.""

The more Suzuki spoke, the less Sasuke felt he knew about his family. And how could he, when he had been scarcely eight when they were killed? "Why-" Sasuke interrupted, clutching his head between his hands, sweeping them through his hair roughly. "-are you telling me all this? Why not just give me the letter? Why stir everything up?"

"I have lost my father, my wife, my health, and now my daughter." His voice did not rise, deepen, or otherwise waver. It was as soft, as calm, as it had been through their entire conversation. "If there's one thing I've learned through it all is that nothing is black and white. In the end, we must look at the grey and decide for ourselves what color we see. You must learn about your father before you pass judgment on him."

With an effort, Suzuki hefted himself up, pushing his weight against the black cane. His wiry frame, bent from his condition, looked the worse for it. He watched the pond that swirled beneath the raised porch, following the whites, oranges, and reds of graceful-moving koi. "In Snow, I kept some fish in the courtyard for my daughter. To keep the water from freezing was impractical, impossible during winter. Yet the strongest carp always survived through the thaw. Such resilience in the face of such adversity is admirable, do you not think so, Sasuke-san?"

Sasuke picked the photo from the table, fingertips curling under it gently.

"You may keep the picture."

* * *

_Until the Next Chapter!_

**Some References:**

**Wareshi**: that is a made up term… a combination of the words _ware _(me)_ and shi_ (remember): Basically _Remember Me. _I have no mastery over the Japanese language, as such, I apologize if it is used incorrectly.

**Rusotoshima: **_Lost Island_

_**M.P.F:** _Short for Military Police Force (as in Konoha's Military Police Force).

**Uchiwa:** means paper fan; the crest of the Uchiha family.

**Hinote Squad**: Hinote means _flames, blaze, or fire_ in Japanese. So Hinote Squad would be a fire squad. This is totally fictional by the way.

**Kouhi:** Kouhi means coffee in Japan; so the _Kouhi-Kouhi _coffe shop literally means _Coffee-Coffee. _Again, I have no mastery over the Japanese language, as such, I apologize if it is used incorrectly.

**Author's Note:**

1. About that review: It was in reference to the Naruto universe timeline. The Uchiha massacre appears to have happened sometime when Sasuke is in the academy, as can be assumed by the small flashback we get of him coming home that night with a backpack (coming back from the academy presumably). In this chapter, i have Sasuke inform the audience that the Uchiha massacre happened in summertime. Now, this would be in conflict with what we know about the incident, which led me to believe that i'd made a BIG mistake. Thankfully, after doing some research into the Japanese school system, i found something that makes everything fit. In Japan (according to the internet), the school year has a semester that starts sometime in April and ends around July. That's when summer break starts. In the previous chapter, its mentioned that the massacre happened three months after April; which would mean that Sasuke was still in school even though it was summer. So there, huge, unintentional, timeline conflict avoided. Many thanks for bringing it to my attention!

2. Also, when Sakura and Sasuke arrive at the Suzuki residence, Sakura says: "-I've never met Suzuki-san, though, so I'm guessing it was his wife who invited me." That was an oversight on my part. It has been fixed, as it is Suzuki-san's mother Sakura knows-and she has met him as well. Many, many, many apologies for that. In my haste to post quickly, I skipped that detail (which had been part of an older story direction).

_Until the Next Chapter!_


	13. Day 500: The Beginning, Part I

Author's Note:

Here's Part 1 of the next chapter (this chapter was split into parts so that it could be posted up faster).

* * *

**Chapter 12: Day 500**

**The Beginning, Part I**

Night was for murder. Its shadows cradled assassins, took them into dark embraces that hid their shape in blackness. They could slither between defenses like eels through ink. Their swords found the hearts and throats of targets with silent motions aided by her cover. Daggers slipped through neckguards so quickly that victims were dead before they knew they were dying.

Guards feared the setting of the sun. They feared the threat of sightlessness, of standing in a ring of light, perfectly visible and perfectly blind. They had things to protect from the night, things that would be stolen or killed. The shinobi who guarded a Daimyo where especially vulnerable. They protected what was most valuable to an assassin.

Sometimes the guards won, sometimes their senses defeated the darkness. But tonight, victory belonged to the murderer.

Special jounin Gaku crumpled to the floor noiselessly, lowered gently by the arm that'd killed him. His eyes followed the men in uniform, followed his killers, his lungs fighting against the blood in his throat, but his spirit left him before he could so much as gurgle.

A substitution jutsu took his place, animated with his memories, yet unfeeling, completely uninterested when his likeness was dragged into a ditch.

The four-man cell continued without incident, their commander trickling into the Daimyo's bedroom with all the effort of water through a broken sieve.

His breath, noiseless until now, rattled through the mask on his face. His hand griped the ninjata at his back, letting it sing as it left its scabbard. He dragged the edge against the stone floor, satisfied when the Daimyo's eyes slipped open.

"Your country is ours."

There wasn't time to scream. The Daimyo of the Fire Nation was found hours later by a chamber maid, resting over rust sheets beside the lifeless body of his wife.

* * *

Kakashi sat with his head against the wall. His eyes were heavy, tired from a long mission. But he couldn't keep himself from coming. He had thought about her endlessly.

The silence of the room and early morning were softened by a bird whose song was shrilly mimicked by a heart monitor. He watched the swell of her breast rise and fall quietly, the rattle of tuberculosis soothed by antibiotics. Carefully, he reached out one hand, fingering a lock of brown hair. It was shorter, trimmed unevenly to brush the sides of her cheeks. The matted knots had been almost impossible to remove otherwise. He'd been glad it hadn't bothered her. She looked so much older than she should. He brushed a thumb lightly over her brow, wanting really, to sweep it gently across the arc of tired skin under her eyes. But he didn't want to wake her. And he didn't think it appropriate.

He settled himself back into place just as the room's door was pushed open.

"Kakashi." She stopped short for a moment, pausing before striding into the room. "You're back early," she admitted with a smile.

"How is she?"

Sakura took the clipboard hanging from the foot of Rin's bed, then sat herself on the window ledge opposite Kakashi.

Flipping between the first and second pages, she told him. "Better. We've started her on the second half of her antibiotics. And as soon as her bloodwork clears, she'll be ready to go home. Her mother's picking her up at the end of the week." She looked up at him.

He hummed an acknowledgment, finding the dog-eared page of _Icha Icha_. "She looks healthier, heavier."

A chiding scoff reached him, "Calling a girl heavier is not the way to her heart."

"If the girl weighed 65 pounds it is."

Sakura sighed. "Kakashi, I don't like it when you're serious."

An eyebrow curled its way up his brow, "Oh? Aren't you always telling me to grow up?"

"Yes, well, I take it back. It's just not right."

"I'll remember that the next time I'm late."

Walking over to check an IV, Sakura glared at him, chiding him in a hushed voice, "don't twist my words."

"Why is she so out of it?"

Sakura's pink head didn't turn towards him, "she had a pretty bad nightmare, one of the nurses gave her a sedative. Although, she really shouldn't have." her voice picked up speed, "Rin needs to work through this herself. She doesn't need an opiate addiction on top of everything. Then, again-"

With an absentminded turn of a page-it's not like he was actually reading-Kakashi cut her off, "what about the ulcer?"

She picked up Rin's wrist gently, fixing the tape over the back of her hand, "as good as can be expected. I really wish we could go ahead and remove it. But that will have to wait at least another four or five months. Until we get her off the antibiotics and make sure the TBs gone."

Kakashi rested his cheek against one fist. "She's still too thin anyway. This will give her some time to recuperate."

"I suppose." Sakura sighed, "It's just not exactly nice to have to wait so long. Ulcers are uncomfortable, sometimes painful, and dangerous. She'll have to be careful."

He nodded, "her mother will watch out for her. After all, she was the only one who believed she was still alive."

Kakashi remembered Mrs. Kato. A strong-willed woman who had forbidden her daughter's name from being carved into the memorial, because, as she told the man who delivered her the news, "_my daughter is _not_ dead_." Kakashi rarely ate his words, and when he did, it was with a grimace. Looking towards Rin, worse for wear, but alive, he swallowed his words with pleasure.

"Kakashi."

"Mm."

"If you want to stay in this room," she said, nodding with her chin, "you better put that smut away. Her mother is about to walk through the door."

Kakashi snapped his book close, tucking it into a back pocket, before straightening his back and looking out the window nonchalantly.

"Real sly, old-man." Sakura teased, her voice flat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, or who. I'm not a _jiji_."

The _clack clack_ of a woman's heels stopped their words. Mrs. Kato, a bento in one hand, a novel in the other, slipped into the room. "Haruno-sensei," she greeted with a polite bow, "Kakashi-san."

"Right on time, Kato-san." Sakura said, bumping Kakashi's knee as she passed him.

The woman smiled minutely, missing the joke between them. "I like to get here early."

"I'm sure Rin appreciates it. Would you like to talk outside, to keep our conversation from disturbing Rin?" Sakura waved one hand towards the door, waititng until Mrs. Kato slipped by to drop it. She turned quickly to Kakashi and winked. "Say good morning for me."

She was out the door before he got a chance to ask her what she meant. Not that he had to, once he felt Rin's stare on his face.

"Good morning, Rin."

She didn't answer, but her lips curved upwards. "Were you on a mission?"

Kakashi moved to face her, putting his back against the window's glass. It was cool against him. "Yes. That's why I was gone this week. I'm sorry."

Her voice was high and clear when she answered, although it was tired. "You don't have to apologize."

"Are you feeling better?"

Her head dipped in a _yes_. "My cough is better. Sakura-sensei said I might be released this week."

He wet his lips behind the mask, "She told me that too."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the air conditioner whizzing to life, the _beep_ of her monitor, the bird outside, and the movement of their lungs.

"Somethings never change."

"What?"

Distantly she pointed to her face. "The mask."

"Oh. Right." He laughed shakily, rubbing the back of his head like Obito used to.

"That too." She added.

"Um, do you want me to take it off?"

Rin shook her head immediately, slightly, but with certainty. "No, no. I like that you still wear it. It's nice to have something…familiar to come home to." She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the word. _Home_. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

Picking up her thought, Kakashi looked at her. "You will. You're already doing better than anyone thought. You always have been full of surprises."

She snapped her gaze to him, eyes a little wider.

"What?" He asked, catching the slight fear that flickered in her stare.

"Nothing."

"Rin."

She let out a wheeze of a laugh, then picked at the sheets with her nails. "One of the…one of the guards there used to say that to me. In the beginning I mean, and the middle. Not after, because by then I didn't really act out. Well, I did, but it wasn't like before. I don't really remember things well from those last few months. I think I had really given up." She stopped and suddenly looked up at him, putting one hand to her brow, she shook her head, she asked, "Am I making any sense? No, of course not," she answered herself and put her other hand to her brow before mumbling something under her breath.

It scared him.

"Rin," he called to her, trying to get her attention, "I think you can be forgiven for not being articulate."

"Yeah," she laughed, "yeah, I guess I can be." And then she cried.

Kakashi didn't know what to do. He thought about holding her, but stopped himself. He would be glad he did. As her silent heaves turned into sobs, Mrs. Kato rushed in, Sakura after her. When her mother's arms wrapped around her, Rin screamed.

* * *

Sakura stood in the middle of the quiet hallway, breathing. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. It was almost dark out, the soft light from the sunset struggled in through the large window at the end of the hall, backlighting her figure in silhoute. Eyes closed, she tilted her chin up to the ceiling and let a sigh whistle past her lips. Rin in the morning, plus a round of shinobi patients, an emergency that nearly died in the ER, and now Jugo. Too much for twelve hours.

The sound of a door startled her eyes open. She watched as Dr. Yoshida slipped out from the hospital's records room. He had a file in his hand, and when he saw her, he looked up suddenly.

"Sakura-san!" He exclaimed almost nervously. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Sakura read the tight rigidness of his frame, the shifty look in his eyes, and the perspritation dotting his skin. "Likewise, Yoshida-san." She offered cautiously. "Were you looking for a patient?" Her stare flickered briefly to the file he held.

He followed her gaze, slightly shifting his arm. "This? Yes, yes," he confirmed, looking back at her with a strained smile, "I'm taking it now to get a copy made. Ichiro's resting at the moment, so I thought I'd take the opportunity. Have you checked in on him, by the way?"

"Yes," Sakura told him, "I did. He's doing fine."

"Good, good, he had me worried. I've been off balance the entire day. I thought reading up on a patient I'm treating might help me calm down." He laughed shakily, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "when the hospital called this afternoon-" his sentence trailed into silence. "Well, I think my heart stopped. Him and my wife are very important to me." He laughed a bit at his last sentence, "Of course they're important, who's wife and child isn't?" His brown eyes were glossed and he looked like a man on the edge of a cliff.

Sakura took pity on him. "He's going to be perfectly fine, Yoshida-san."

"Thank Kami-sama." He smiled at her before bowing. "And thank you, for all the help you've given him."

Her head dipped in acknowledment, "it's nothing Yoshida-san."

When he was gone, Sakura couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something. Or maybe she was paranoid. Afterall, the man's son had just come back from a mission with three broken ribs and a punctured lung. Sakura shook her head and headed to Ichiraku. She needed some sake.

* * *

"How you been?"

Suigetsu watched Jugo shake his huge shoulders. "I have been fine."

"How's the hospital treating you?"

Jugo's leg moved under the blankets. His feet were crowded up against the footboard, knees slightly bent because he was too tall to fit properly. "They have treated me well."

"You know Jugo," Suigetsu said, comfortably crossing his arms, "talking to you is kinda like talking to a wall."

He didn't say anything.

"That's exactly what I mean."

Seeing that Jugo wasn't going to rise to the bait, Suigetsu gave in. "Fine. What about the treatment. How's that going?"

With a cough to clear his throat, Jugo told him about Sakura's herbal mix. "Haruno-sensei spoke with a friend of hers who owns an apothecary. Together they came up with a special blend of herbs. They help me relax."

With one brow skeptically raised, Suigetsu smirked, "Herbs? That's all it takes to get you back to normal."

Fixing his short, orange hair, Jugo shrugged. "It is actually a very dangerous poison for most people. It can cause temporary paralysis and induce deep sleep. Haruno-sensei warned me of this in case her theory didn't work."

"Wow, who woulda thought? The pink chick's got a brain."

"She is very smart." Jugo defended.

Suigetsu paused for a moment-his mouth open, tongue waiting to form his next word-to watch Jugo carefuly. "Really. Is she now? What else is Haruno-_sensei_?"

Jugo shifted his gaze out the window, not catching Suigetsu's suggestion. "She is kind to her patients."

A wicked grin split Suigetsu's face, sharp teeth gleaming, "First love, how sweet."

Jugo's eyes narrowed, though his voice remained the epitome of calm. "Do not interpret my words in ways they are not meant to be interpreted."

Suigetsu waved his hands out in front of him innocently. "Sure, man, no problem! Whatever you say!"

A nurse interrupted them, wheeling in a tray with her. Suigetsu eyed the brown rice and shriveled slab of meat. He caught a whiff of steamed vegetables and snorted. He made a noise of disgust. "That smells horrible."

Jugo took the chopsticks from their wrapping, splitting them apart. "It is better than what we usually ate in Hebi."

"Huh." Suigetsu thought of the snake he'd had to cook more than once. And that time when the only thing their traps caught was an oversized rat. That had been an ultimate low. "You're right."

"So, is there any permanent fix in the future for you, Mr. Scales?"

The auburn red of Jugo's eyes fixed themselves on him briefly. Annoyance flickered through them. "Haruno-sensei and the other doctors are researching possible avenues."

A muffled scream rang through the hall. Suigetsu turned his head slightly towards the noise. "And when," he said pointing out the door, "do you get out of the psychward?"

"I am to be moved into one of the hospital's apartments buildings. Haruno-sensei says it is quieter and more private, like living on my own."

"I bet. Did you get the twenty questions already?"

Jugo dipped his meat in a disposable container of soy sauce, "Yes, I was interrogated."

"And?" Suigetsu prodded.

"It went well." Jugo brought the meat to his mouth, answering before eating, "they were polite for interrogators."

Suigetsu thought that was because they were hoping to ply the information more cautiously. Maybe through his pink-haired doctor? She was a shinobi, wasn't she? The red band around Jugo's wrist caught his attention. "What's that?"

Jugo looked at his arm, where Suigetsu was pointing. "It monitors my chakra and heart rate. When both spike beyond a certain level, it means I'm about to have an episode. It sends a signal out to the hospital and also releases a sedative."

Suigetsu was impressed. "Wow, has it worked?"

"Yes. Very well."

Looking to the small clock resting on a nightstand, Suigetsu rose from his chair. "Hate to break it to you Scales, but I gotta flash. Konoha's kicking me out today. They got all the info they wanted out of me and they don't want me sticking around."

Jugo set his chopsticks down. "I wish you luck. And you have my thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, bows and kisses to you too." When he was standing at the threshold of Jugo's room, he turned slightly, "You do know it was Sasuke that paid for the mission right?"

Jugo's head dipped. "Yes."

"Alrgiht. Oh and, don't get too attached to anyone here, they're only using you as a lab rat."

"I am aware of Konoha's interest in me. It is nothing new."

"Just checking. See ya around."

Jugo watched the door for a moment, then picked up his chopsticks and continued eating.

* * *

The Teahouse was one of Konoha's finest (and only) hotels. The building itself had been renovated from an old bathhouse that was practically torn to the ground before being rebuilt with more glass and steel than was ever used in traditional design. Nevertheless it was brilliant, contemporary, and everything Konoha's youngest and/or richest patrons needed in a hotel.

Two men slid apart the frosted glass shoji doors for her, bowing as she passed. She hovered on the landing for a moment, holding her purse in both hands, looking around and then up to the giant cupola that spiraled to the sky in a mass of glass from which hung a shower of raindrop lights. Beyond it, the stars gleamed like diamonds in a velvet sky. Passing the reception, she followed a curving line of blond bamboo in the dark wood floors. It took her from the massive lobby into a corner nook that narrowed into a tunnel grown from bent willow saplings and opened onto the lounge area. Low couches with cream satin pillows surrounded coffee-colored tables. Towards the back she caught sight of Shikamaru's trademark hair, Ino's blond head, and Chouji's broad back. They were sitting right next to the bar, drinks scattered over the table's surface.

"Sakura!"

Ino waved her over, pulling her into a half hug. Sakura took a seat next to her.

"Hello, Pig, Chouji, Shikamaru."

Gripping her cosmopolitan, Ino glared lightheartedly at her. "If I great you with your mother-given name, then you should do the same!"

"Sorry I'm late," Sakura cut her off, "I got tied up at the hospital."

Ino gave her a glance. "You clean up good, Forehead. Is that a new dress?"

Smoothing the black brocade of her outfit, Sakura nodded. "Yup."

"Oh!" She pouted, turning quickly to Shikamaru and slapping his forearm. "I told you we should have invited him! She even got all dressed up!"

Sakura looked from the waiter-who had just taken her order-to Ino, "Invite who?"

Ino brought her head close to Sakura's ear and whispered conspirationlly "Shika knows this really _hot, single_ guy from work." Leaning back, she continued in a louder, slightly chiding voice. "But _Shika_ wouldn't invite him."

Shikamaru's flat face didn't change as he brought his beer to his lips. It stayed the same when Sakura mouthed a _thank you_ to him.

"Hey!" Ino yelled. "I saw that! So what's wrong with setting you up!"

"Ino," Sakura said as she took her pretty drink from the waiter-it even had an umbrella. "The last time you set me up with a guy, I ended up calling on Kakashi to scare the shit out of him."

Waving her hand, Ino scoffed. "So he was a bit of a stalker-"

"A bit!" Sakura said loudly. She turned her head to include the others. "He hung out on my doorstep everyday for hours! And he followed me to the grocery store."

"That was once!" Ino defended loudly, grabbing Sakura's hand which had been waving too close to her face as she spoke.

"Once is more than enough."

Chouji, who up until that point had been busy with a bowl of barmix, asked without looking up: "Why did you need Kakashi to scare him. You're ANBU aren't you?"

"I tried. Except that only seemed to turn him on."

Chouji choked lightly on a laugh and Ino grimaced, both at the little bit of food that had flown from his mouth onto the table and at Sakura's story. Shikamaru sipped his beer with the faintest upward curl of his lips.

"I like the place you chose, Pig. It's nice. And good service." Sakura added after the waiter had replaced her white cloth napkin with a black one in consideration of her dress.

"Only the best." Ino toasted with her nearly empty cosmo. They followed her lead, bringing their drinks up high.

A loud _Kampai_ rang out from their table. "Three guesses at who else is staying here."

"Who?" Chouji asked, looking through the appetizers on the bar's menu.

"The entire main branch of the Hyuga. And Neji too, with his family. That's the reason Tenten and Kiba didn't come to our little roundup." Ino took the olive from her glass and popped it into her mouth.

"I didn't know the Hyuga were here." Sakura murmured into her drink. Her breath pushed the smell of alcohol into her nose.

"Yup." Ino continued unknowingly. "They've booked in here recently, since the council house in the compound is now under repair too.

"And the rest of the brood?" Shikamaru questioned.

Eyes sparkling at the thought of gossip, Ino leaned into her elbows. "Staying with distant relatives or at the inn across town. It's a lot cheaper than this place."

Sakura thought about how large the Hyuga clan was. "All of them fit into the inn?"

With a flippant wave of her hand, Ino scoffed. "Just barely. We really need more hotels in Konoha." She finished, resting her chin in the cradle of her palms.

"We're a hidden village, Ino. Not exactly a tourist trap." Sakura reminded her.

"Hey, I know plenty of people who want a place to get away!"

Sakura hummed. "I-" she said plopping her drink back onto the table before rising. "-will be right back."

"Where are you going?" Ino called to her.

Over one shoulder, Sakura responded. "Restroom. And stop being so nosy."

She heard Ino's yell of complaint as she rounded the corner.

The restroom had a lavish antechamber with a long, black marble vanity set up for makeup. Sakura was fixing her hair in the mirror after having washed her hands when she heard the drawling voice of Hyuga Neji. Her fingers froze mid-motion, one pink curl caught between thumb and forefinger.

Sakura drew closer to the door, waiting until the sound of his voice and the noise of his footsteps, as well as whosever he was following, disappeared. She pushed the door aside and followed their chakra, her own chakra pushed back into a tiny, wound ball that would be unnocitable. Him and Hinata were inside a tearoom. Through the double doors she could see walls lined with tea boxes and decorative tea pots with cups and whisks and bowls used in ceromonies. He was looking at a particular tea. Hinata was pacing next to a low table. "What's going on with the clan, Neji?" He didn't turn towards her. Careful to keep quiet, Sakura pressed herself behind a giant square column. A potted tree shaped like a bonsai hid her completely. Hopefully. She had a very narrow and distorted view of them through a line of clear glass that ran across the frosted finish on the side of the door.

"Neji." Hinata's voice was very soft and hard to hear. But she strained towards it.

"Please. I know something big is happening. Tell me what it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

In an angry response to his flat words, her tone rose sharply-a surprising thing for Hinata. "Don't lie to me! Don't you think I've noticed the absences? The-" She paused and then continued. "-The money that was transferred. The way the council is always meeting, even before the fire. Don't you think I know that the fire was planned!" Her next sentence was almost a scream, muffled only by the way she hoarsely whispered it to keep from drawing attention. "That someone deliberately trapped _my_ little sister in a burning house! She's dead Neji! And it's because of something you and my father are doing!"

There was no response to her aquesation. The silence that fell around them had Sakura pushing herself closer.

"What is happening is a matter between Hyuga-sama and myself."

"Don't give me that, that, that bullshit!"

"A lady shouldn't use such words, Hinata."

The sound of footsteps drew nearer. Neji disappeared from view, then reappeared, closer to Hinata. He held a wooden box of tea.

"Perhaps you'd like some tea. This is mountain white with orange blossoms. It's a soothing blend." He sat down. Hinata didn't though. She stayed standing, back to him. "Congratulations, you've picked Hanabi's favorite tea."

He snapped the open lid down with a resounding _clack_.

"Her death was not my fault!"

Whipping around, Hinata threw the words at him. "Then whose fault is it!"

His silence answered her.

She smoothed a hand over the sleeves of her shirt. Her voice was schooled into a quiet calmness. "I was ordered to gather information."

Neji's fingers, which had been busy running over the polished tea box, paused.

"I have more than enough to accuse you, my father, and the council of treason. It's not something I want to do Neji. So give me a reason not to."

His head stayed high. Eyes focused on a distant spot in the room.

"You would denounce your family? Your own blood?"

"You have rarely acted like my family, Neji. Though I know you would die for me, and I for you. Don't you think that if we can shed blood for each other, than we can, at the very least, trust each other?"

"Neji!" She prompted when he didn't answer.

The silence of the room remained unbroken by him.

"Please, tell me what's going on!"

"Neji!"

Silence

For the first time in her life, Sakura heard Hinata scream.

"MY SISTER IS DEAD FOR _YOUR_ SILENCE!"

The tea box crashed across the room and Neji stood swiftly from his seat, rounding on his cousin and catching her wrist.

Hinata took a step back, looking up at him.

"Your sister," he spat through a whisper, "is dead because of your father's bastard son."


	14. Day 500: The Beginning, Part II

Author's Note:

Here's Part II of chapter 12. You should know that time has passed, so it's not really "Day 500." But seeing as every chapter has a name in two parts (date and title), I kept them the same to avoid complications.

Many thanks for the wonderful reviews! As always, this chapter goes out to the reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Day 500**

**The Beginning, Part II**

Ripping her arm from his grip, Hinata wiped away a tear, never breaking their gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Neji looked away first, rubbing his temples. His stare flittered around the room.

"Before Hyuga-sama met your mother, he had an affair-"

He ignored Hinata's gasp, continuing despite the widening of mouth and eyes. "-with a maid from the main house. She left when she found out she was pregnant.-"

Sakura's hands rose to her mouth, killing off the sound she nearly released.

"-a councilmember was the only one who knew. He paid her to leave and then he ordered the guard to kill her. But she had disappeared before they could. They tracked her, and it was only years later that they finally found her and followed through with their orders. But the boy survived. He's now a Rain shinobi and he wants vengeance. Your father negotiated with a nobleman from Rain to get rid of him-"

"It's his son!" Hinata interceded. "He's just going to…to murder him?"

With hard eyes, Neji watched her. "My father's life saved your father's. Is it a surprise that the blood of your half-brother could do the same for you?"

Ashamed, Hinata dropped her gaze. Neji spoke again, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "The nobleman from Rain, however, failed to deliver on his promise. Although he was paid handsomely."

"All the sightings about a Hyuga then, that was him?"

One nod of his head, _yes_.

"And the money." Hinata touched her lips with a wavering hand. "Dear Kami-sama. They think you're all traitors! You have to tell the Hokage!"

Neji squared his jaw. "Hyuga-sama won't allow it."

"And what else won't I allow, Neji?"

His voice fell gently over them, like nightshade petals into the mouth of a sleeping man.

Neji and Hinata stood still as the head of the Hyuga clan entered through the matching door on the opposite side of the tearoom. Their hearts beat close to their throats. Hinata felt a shiver whisper over her skin.

Hand softly closing the shoji-screen behind him, Hyuga-sama turned to face them.

"Not even a seal. Perhaps you hoped to include others in this conversation?"

Neji remained silent, watching his uncle cautiously. Hinata had yet to move.

From her perch by the door's edge, Sakura pressed her side into the wood of the column, quenching the urge to tighten her chakra further. It was the sort of rookie mistake that drew an opponent's attention within seconds.

"No answer? Not a word, Neji? Hinata?" He moved their gaze over them. "Seconds ago neither of you could keep your mouths shut."

"Neji hasn't done anything wrong. But you have, otou-san." She had her back to him, her face slightly inclined to her left.

"I have done nothing but work to protect you and maintain the integrity of this clan."

Hinata turned slowly, her white stare meeting his, her words whispered hesitantly. "The clan's integrity, or yours, otou-san?"

Hyuga-sama took a step towards them, brow narrowing. The veins at his temple distended momentarily. "How dare you. How-"

"Don't."

The word fell from Hinata's lips quietly, but it rose over the room like a hiss of steam.

Rubbing the tears from her eyes, Hinata left through the doorway her father had used, her words floating behind her. "I have heard enough."

There was a beat of quiet stress around them.

"Who next, Hyuga-sama?"

Hiashi's head rose to meet Neji's question. The air in the room strained between them. Sakura felt their chakra crackle under their skin, growing and leaking from their pores in simmering energy.

"What are you talking about?

Neji walked quietly towards the shattered box of tea. He leaned down gracefully and pulled it from the floor, not bothering with the loose dust piled over the tatami. A dry, white petal fell to the ground. "Who else will die? You have already lost one daughter. Is your power within the clan worth the life of the other?"

The _click_ of the lacquered box being placed softly on its shelf was the only sound in the room.

His unlce left without a word.

Before Neji followed in his footsteps, Sakura watched as he took a step towards her. She froze, muscles tensing in place. He stood there for a moment, gaze burning into her face. She swore he looked right through the frosted glass to her.

Sakura made her way shakily to her friend's table.

"Forehead! Did you fall in the toilet?"

Ino's voice rang out to her.

Scrunching her brow with annoyance, Sakura plopped down beside her. "I-"

Ino's whisper, loudly muttered behind her hand as she dropped them into Sakura's ear, cut her off. "Did you eat week-old leftovers again? You're not sick are you?"

Fighting down a blush, Sakura finished her sentence.

"That was once! And I got sidetracked by the tearoom they have here. It's… stunning."

Shikamaru's gaze swept to her briefly, the scrutiny in it disappeared behind his beer.

"Isn't it?" Ino agreed, sipping from her drink, which had changed from a Cosmo, to…well, something with a significantly stronger alcohol content. Sakura could smell it from her seat.

"Are you drinking a Suicide?"

At Ino's broad smile, Sakura shook her head. "Are you taking her home, Shikamaru?"

"Of course he is, he's gonna sleep with me too!"

Shikamaru spluttered, spitting a little of his beer back into its glass. He looked at it with a bit of disgust, then glared at Ino. "Troublesome." The last word was a long-drawn sigh.

"Oh, come on, Shika! It's not like people don't know we already live together. Now," Sakura could tell as soon as Ino's eyes took on a gleam of hellfire that she was building up to an old argument, "if you want to make a respectable woman out of me, all you have to do is marry me."

Hunched shoulders drooping even further, Shikamaru rolled his eyes once, hand fiddling with a lighter he'd pulled from a pocket. "I thought you'd gotten over the ring thing, Woman."

"Don't you _Woman_ me!"

"I'm guessing," Sakura interrupted, pulling Ino's hand before it connected with the back of Shikamaru's head, "that the ring wasn't for you?"

"No!" Ino said loudly, turning abruptly to face her, "Kiba gave it to him for safe-holding!"

Sakura's eyebrows rose slightly, "Kiba's ring?"

Ino shook her head, "No, no, no! This is how good gossip turns bad." She uttered as an afterthought. "Hana's boyfriend gave it to Kiba and asked him to hold onto it until he was ready to pop the question. After a close call with Hana, Kiba passed it on to Shika. End of story. No fairytale wedding for me."

Chouji munched loudly on a salt cracker, focus completely dedicated to his plate. "Did you hear-" He muttered around a mouthful absently. -about the capital thing?"

"The what?" Sakura asked at the same time Ino reprimanded him, "Jeez, Chouji, thanks for caring about my marital future!"

His eyes, always pinched into slits, flicked briefly over Ino without much consideration. "Two of the nations are building ca-pi-tals." He enunciated the strange word carefully.

"What are they?" Ino finally conceded, taking the bait.

Shikamaru answered her, his voice crisp under the dull tone. "Major villages. They're big, metropolitan, and centers for government."

"That sounds like a hidden village." Ino deadpanned.

"They also have almost no shin obi." Shikamaru continued "And have a civilian guard with allegiance only to the Daimyo. There's no kage."

Sakura nursed her drink, still half full. "So then who's their leader?"

"The Daimyo. Directly. He, or she, also has a residence there, from which the council deliberates."

Chouji spoke into his plate. "It's a way to centralize power."

"It's just a cheap rip-off of a hidden village, without the muscle." Ino said, bringing the suicide up to her mouth. "It'll never take."

Shikamaru leaned his chin into a hand. "I hope you're right."

* * *

Karin was late.

She was two days late. And that meant that Sasuke was _waiting_ for her. The thought was laughable. Sasuke had a feeling, more like an instinct because he wasn't very good at handeling feelings, that the information she would reveal to him would be-he was tempted to use the word earth-shattering but it was much too dramatic-important. Kisame knew, he was sure, why Itachi had murdered his clan. It was an answer long overdue and he would have it at any cost.

"What's with the long face?"

Sasuke tilted his head towards her, answer not forthcoming.

"Fine." Sakura said cheerily, pulling out a stool. "Good to see you, too. How has your day been? Mine's been fine." She continued on that tangeant, asking him questions and them answering them herself. When old man Teuchi was setting down her order, she dropped a sentence that made him want to strangle her. It made Teuchi burst into a wheezing, coughing laugh. "Yes, I agree, Sasuke, you should get a colonoscopy."

His hand paused halfway to his mouth, chopsticks hovering in the air. A sudden droll in the surrounding conversation made room for an ill-timed silence. Four of the six patrons turned to stare at him. Kakashi choose that moment to walk in.

"A what?"

He glared at them, then activated his sharingan for good measure. Nervously, the busybodies focused on their meals or their friends. The sound of lunch trickled back quickly, filling Ichiraku with the clatter of chopsticks and cheap earthenware.

"Nevermind, Murder-san over here would kill me for repeating it."

Sasuke noticed, to his displeasure, that Sakura wore a long smile. He scowled into his drink.

"Ease up, Sasuke. No hard feelings, right?" Kakashi asked, sitting on his left. "Besides, Sakura's a doctor, it's only natural she encourage her friends to get screened regularly."

On his right, Sakura's light laughed morphed into a choke at Sasuke's response, uttered in his soft, cool, but always biting voice.

"Aren't you overdue for a prostate exam?"

Kakashi coughed into his hand. "I'm well below that age-"

Sakura, about to interrupt his misconception, was stopped as he continued.

"-But, the joke's on you. One day-" There was a look on his face that told them he was trying to imagine whatever he was about to say next. The wrinkles that broke around his eyes meant he found it rather hilarious. "-you'll get there and I'll be laughing at you from heaven."

"Heaven, Kakashi?" She finally said, leaning towards him around Sasuke's back, eyebrows arched. Sasuke felt his skin prickle when her breath flittered over his neck. His grip tightened. No one noticed.

"You wound me, Sakura."

"As if."

With a sad, little melodramatic sigh, Kakashi pulled out his book, eating around it. The pages of _Icha Icha_ remained immaculately clean, despite the noodles that hovered sometimes shakily over them.

He raised his eyes slightly when Sakura moved from her seat, laying some coins over the bar.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, I have a shift at the hospital."

Sasuke remained stubbornly focused on his meal as they spoke. He only acknowledged Sakura's parting words with a muted "hn."

"Wrong side of the bed this morning, Sasuke?"

His old student ignored him, drinking lazily from his glass.

As silence, not necessarily the bad kind, settled between them, Sasuke thought about his clan. His gaze flicked casually towards Kakashi. Would he know anything about it? Would he tell the Hokage he had asked?

Sasuke opened his mouth then closed it. He tried again, about to string together a vapid sentence that might get him the right answers. He took a sip of water instead.

Beside him, and without removing his nose from the spine of his book, Kakashi spoke. "Is there something on your mind, Sasuke?"

Setting down the glass in his hand, Sasuke looked at the wall ahead. "I heard your old teammate was alive."

Kakashi glanced at him slowly. "Yes."

"You two were on a team with Uchiha Obito, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you worked in ANBU, and the MPF. And you knew my brother."

_Icha Icha _was closed and placed-cover first-over the counter. "I think, Sasuke, that the conversation you are trying to have is better left for another time."

Sasuke met his eyes with nonchalance. "Are you refusing to answer?"

With a wave of his hand, Kakashi told him to look around. "A bit of privacy might be better."

"Then you know something worth protecting?"

Kakashi sighed, face loosing any remaining traces of humor. "No. I barely knew your brother and I never got along with Obito until the end."

"Hn."

"Is there-" Kakashi said, leaning his forearms over his book. "-a reason for the interrogation?"

Turning his face away from Kakashi's, Sasuke muttered "No."

"Ah, well then-"

Kakashi never got the chance to finish his sentence. The words were swallowed by a sudden and tremendous explosion. Their hands came up to protect their heads and they stumbled slightly with the blast. A glass window shattered nearby. The sound of surprised screams rang out to them.

They were disoriented for only seconds. The blast had been far, weak by the time it reached them. Slipping out into the street, Kakashi and Sasuke, along with Teuchi, the patrons of Ichiraku, and most of the nearby villagers, watched an angry chimney of smoke rising into the sky. A shroud of dark dust traveled through the air, moving in a smooth, fast expansion.

It was coming from Konoha's General Hospital.

For a moment, all anyone could do was stare. They watched together as grey and charcoal colored their world while the muffled sounds of distant cries reached them vaguely, muted by a distance measured in more than meters.

A long, wailing siren stitched itself into the chaos of the scene.

* * *

Sakura ran into Yukari just as she was coming into the hospital.

"Yukari-san." She greeted with a tentative smile. She still wasn't quite sure how to act around Akira's wife, though she was trying.

Yukari turned a shy, amiable set of eyes to her, speaking softly with her whispering voice. "Sakura-san, how nice to see you."

"Likewise, Yukari-san." Looking at Hiroaki, round with baby fat and big as a house, she held a hand out for him to catch. "He's looking healthy, as always."

Yukari agreed. "Only a year old and already as difficult as his father."

Nodding, Sakura watched him fumble with her palm, then grip her fingers. "How have you been, Yukari-san?" She asked, switching her gaze.

"He makes things easier." Yukari mumbled, shifting Hiroaki up her arm.

"Yeah-" Sakura struggled for the right words. "-that's good to hear." She kept her head bowed slightly, attention on the baby tugging her hand. She extended her arm, letting him bring her fingers to his mouth. He chewed on her thumb. If she hadn't been a doctor, she might have found the feeling of warm baby spittle unpleasant.

"Sorry." Yukari smiled, gently trying to pry him away.

Sakura laughed, "No, no. It's fine. Is he teething?"

Yukari tilted her head in answer. "I just brought him in for a checkup. He had a slight fever. They told me it was routine."

"Poor baby-" Sakura cooed. "-working hard on those teeth. Oh-." A gleam of light caught her eye. A silver charm, threaded through a safety pin, hung from Hiroaki's jumper. "He's wearing it."

"Of course." Yukari smiled, looking at her. "It was a very special gift."

"Nothing that special." Sakura admonished with some embarrassment.

"Protection jutsu are nothing to be laughed at."

"As long as it does its job. Speaking of which-" Sakura looked at her wrist. "I'm sorry, Yukari-san, I have a shift starting ten minutes ago."

Inside, Sakura looked over her shoulder, watching as Yukari and Hiroaki walked home. She could just see the baby's face over his mother's shoulder. Her mouth settled into an easy, soft curve. She was glad Yukari had accepted the charm. It really wasn't her place to give it to her. Children received them from their fathers on their first birthday. Or, in worst case scenarios, by their mothers. But Akira was dead and Yukari couldn't spend nearly 300 ryo on an heirloom.

Sakura pressed the 'up' button outside the elevator. The doors slid open and she had one foot in the lift-mind whirling with thoughts of Hiroaki's college fund, Jugo's treatment, Rin's therapy, a report she had pending for Hirosaki, that carton of milk she needed to buy before going home-when the world exploded into black.

She opened her eyes to a hellish dream. She was lying against a wall, ash and debris littered around her. Her clothes were wet. Overhead, the sprinkler system poured water. Most of the spouts were broken, water gushing from the pipes in tiny waterfalls. She heard, faintly, the sound of the elevator's doors opening and closing. Blinking, she swept a dirty hand across her eyes. They stung with bits of grit. An armrest was keeping the doors to the lift open. A little _ding_ echoed every time they tried to close and couldn't, a warning for whatever was in the way to get out. The fluorescent lights were flickering, some hanging from the ceiling with displaced wires like the intestines of some monstrous beast. The hospital's alarm was shrilly screeching, joined by the low cries of Konoha's alert system. They formed an eerie chorus with sopranos and altos. Not that it bothered her much, since she could barely make it out over the pitch fork humming in her ear.

Using the guardrail on the wall as a crutch, Sakura pushed herself up, lungs wheezing. She stood still as the scene whirled together then split apart. She coughed, choking on the thickness of the air. One hand covering her mouth, she stumbled towards the reception desk. What remained of it was pushed up against the sitting area.

"Hello?"

No one answered her.

"Hello?"

She lifted a plank of wood, tumbling to the floor beside it. _Focus_, Sakura. Pooling chakra into her arms and hands, Sakura tried again. The plank came away. Behind it, a cramped cave-formed by the underside of the desk-sheltered the body of the receptionist. When she saw her, the woman tried to crawl out of the space, her eyes were wide and her figure trembled.

Sakura reached for her. "Hey? Can you hear me?" Her own voice came to her dully, as if she were terribly congested or listening to it underwater.

The woman didn't look at her, but she did clasp her forearm.

They, along with three others, walked out of the hospital together, crushing glass under their feet. Outside, the woman fell to the ground-under her weight, Sakura followed. The buildings around the hospital had lost their windows and facades. Most were stripped to their underlying layers, missing walls and doors. And there were people lying on the street. Dozens of civilians thrown like gravel over the road.

There were moans and pitiful cries ringing out, all a horrible chorus to the melody of sirens and the harmony of a roaring fire.

"Yukari." She called brokenly. Her throat was dry. "Yukari-san." She tried, louder.

"_If something ever goes wrong, will you look out for my family?_"

Akira's words set the backdrop to her panic. "Yukari-san!"

Her eyes flittered over the bodies, with a pang, she ignored those that asked her for help.

"Yukari-sa-"

"Here!"

Sakura spun, standing too quickly. The floor tilted and she had to focus past the sudden darkening of her vision. She waited, watching as the edges of her world blackened, like ink spreading over water, then broadened as she regained some equilibrium. Throughout it all, Yukari remained the center of her focus, peaking fearfully around the turn of a building, her baby safe-but crying-in her arms. They weren't hurt, although dust was sticking to their clothes and skin. The protection charm had worked.

"Stay back!" Sakura warned. "Yukari-san, get as far from here as you can. It's still dangerous!"

Yukari hesitated.

"I'll be fine! I need to help." Shinobi and medics were already arriving. They would need every hand they could get.

With a nod, Yukari disappeared around the building.

A hand clamped around her ankle. Looking down, Sakura saw a man staring at her. A projectile, a pipe she guessed, grew from his stomach. "Help me. Please."

Numbly, she kneeled at his side and started healing.

"It's gonna be okay. You're going to be fine." She spoke to him as she had spoken to Hiroaki, her words soft, lilting, and meaningless.

She moved from body to body, closing the eyes of the dead before searching for the next pulse.

"Sakura!"

She choked on his name. "Kakashi."

When his arms wrapped around her, she sobbed once into his jacket, squeezing his back with her strength, hands cupping his shoulder blades, feeling the warmth and substance of him. Breathing heavily and shaking, she pulled away quickly. "I'm fine, I'm fine." She repeated, wiping her eyes. "Just a little shaken. Go find Rin." Without waiting for his reply, she looked away from him, continuing work on another civilian. He was a young man; he would live to be an old one. "She should be okay." Sakura added. "Her wing doesn't seem to be affected."

Kakashi touched her head, then squeezed her shoulder briefly before making it into the hospital.

She stumbled as she tried to stand. Sasuke gripped her beneath her elbow.

Her face was blank when she addressed him, watching the hinote squads arrive. "Thanks." The fire leaped within the building, its reflection dancing in the glossy sheen of her eyes.

She moved by a man who was clawing at his shin. He called to her. "Here! I'm here!"

She stopped to face him. "You have a broken leg. The rest of the emergency team will help you momentarily, but there are others who need us now."

"Please! It hurts." His hand gripped hers tightly. "Please!"

Her breath caught in her lungs. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Just, if you try to stay still, the pain won't worsen. I'll call for some morphine-"

His hand tightened and his gaze was wild with fear. She felt his nails bite into her skin.

Sasuke stepped between them. Methodically, he wrapped his fingers over theirs, prying the man's from her palm. His gaze burned, red swirling to life. "Look around you. People are dead, or near it. You are lucky not to be one of them."

The man's hand fell to his lap and his eyes drooped to half mast, then closed. He had fallen asleep.

Sakura watched the ground when Sasuke turned to her. "Thanks."

"There's a woman behind you, bleeding heavily. Are you just going to stand there?"

"No-" She said turning, sitting by the body.

When he kneeled opposite her, she smiled tightly. "Thank you."

He staunched the bleeding, as she instructed. "You already said that."

Together, they saved her life.

"You should find Jugo." She told him, stitching a wound together with her chakra. "Although…never mind. He should be fine, he was living in the apartments already so-"

He stopped her. "He's helping with the evacuation."

She nodded mutely, sweat sliding down her face. The sound of the sirens still played their mad melody and the air was thick with smoke.

"Hold here."

Hands slick with blood, Sasuke gripped both sides of the man's leg, pulling the skin close together. Her chakra fused the gaping seam.

Kakashi's shadow fell over them. "Here." He held out two canteens.

Their hands smudged the metal red. When Sakura's shaking fingers slipped from the cap for a fourth time, Sasuke quietly handed her his, cap already loosened. The water they poured over their skin stained the ground with rust.

"We need a proper wash, and some gloves." Sakura murmured.

"Hn."

* * *

Shikamaru had never seen the briefing room this full before. Every official of any importance was crammed into the space, from the jounin representatives to the higher-ups in ANBU, to Tsunade's diplomats and Konoha's council. It made the air hot and thick. He was sticky with sweat and more than a little bothered by the tight press of bodies around him.

"Take that scowl off your face. And put out that cigarette."

Shikamaru gazed at his father. "Troublesome." He took one last, long breath of nicotine before smothering the butt against the sole of his shoe. He played with the lid of Asuma-sensei's lighter. Flick _click, _flick _click_.

A sharp glare from his father stopped him.

Under his breath, Shikamaru muttered about old men and retirement. Before his father could say anything, the Hokage stood from her seat at the head of the room. The council remained at her back. Her features were set in hard lines.

"You all know why you're here, so I'll get straight to the point. Surveillance footage recovered from the site shows one unidentified and unauthorized man leaving the Records Room of the hospital. This was the point of origin of the explosion. It is also believed that he was a civilian, which is the inadequate excuse I'm given for his undetected breech of hospital security."

Shikamaru caught her gaze flicker briefly to a man shifting in his place.

"This man walked through our gates unhindered and spent time in our village undetected. Whether or not he had help is still unknown. But this is not the first attack on Konoha. Some of you may or may not be aware that six nights ago the Fire Daimyo was murdered."

Shikamaru's neck perked forward, around him voices were raised in shock.

"Until now-" The Hokage continued, sweeping amber eyes over the gathering. "-that information has been kept on a need-to-know basis. Rumors, however, are growing and the Fire Council has decided to hold a press conference. Tomorrow afternoon, his death will be announced. By evening, that information will reach Konoha's ears. The village's blood is already stirring with the strike against the hospital, this will only add fuel to the fire. I want squads patrolling the streets day and night, especially when the memorial service is held. Until further notice push security up to Level One. No one gets into or out of Konoha without a three hour delay." The Hokage paused, looking over them. Her eyes were heavy with irresolution. She took a breath and continued, decision made. "Before his Lordship's death, I secured a meeting with him. He granted Konoha permission to declare war upon provocation. However, circumstances have changed and his order may be revoked. His death forces us to act quickly. I believe, gentlemen, that it is time for a vote."

The room broke into chaos.

* * *

Sasuke never watched the news, but sometimes, for the sake of company, he kept the set on when it grew dark out. The voices of the newscasters would filter through the silence of his apartment, drown the whispers of loneliness with their words while he ate his takeout or sat reading one of the books Sakura had gotten him for his birthday. It was a comfort to hear their murmurs stretch into the empty space.

Flipping a page, Sasuke read over the next paragraph of the narrative. His eyes slid lazily to the television when a somber melody rang out. Across the screen, a banner with the Konoha News logo announced a priority report. The station's main anchorman appeared suddenly, looking as if he'd been dragged from his office.

Sasuke leaned close to the coffee table, grabbing the remote from its surface. As the volume bars that flashed near the bottom of the screen grew, so did the man's voice.

"-breaking news. It has just reached us that the Fire Nation Palace was infiltrated several nights ago by a group of four shinobi-"

Setting his book aside, Sasuke straightened himself on the couch.

"-We regretfully inform you that his Lordship, the Daimyo of Fire Country, and his wife did not survive the attack. Details on the murder are being withheld from the public. We can only assume his Lordship's assassination is related the recent attack on Konoha General, and the rumors of an upcoming war, which if true, leaves Konoha in a precarious position. Statements from the Hokage have not been released. Please await-"

The stir of a breeze at his side distracted Sasuke. He threw a kunai before the shadow at his back had even spoken.

"Relax, Sasuke-kun. If I wanted you dead you'd already be a corpse."

Sasuke, eyes glowing like embers in the black of night, watched the masked man.

"It seems village life has made you soft."

"Who are you." The question, in his typical fashion, wasn't a question. He made his demand with the carefully controlled voice of a man who was unused to surprises. Sasuke refrained from clenching his hand over the air at his hip. Kusanagi was resting next to his bed. He had grown complacent. His chakra swirled angrily.

The figure's masked face inclined towards his television. "Enjoying the news? A shame about the Daimyo. But, all things come to an end, and he had outgrown his usefulness."

The tomoe in his eyes were spinning faster now. His body was stiff with a tension masked by the easy set of his shoulders, the careless tilt of his neck.

"I can see-" The man's feet moved subtly under his cloak, ripples stirring the cloth that hid his shape. "-that you are becoming impatient. It is your tragic flaw, among others."

A scowl twisted Sasuke's lips, brow narrowing in anger when the man had the audacity to sit on his couch. He even crossed his leg over his knee, perfectly at ease. Sasuke caught a glimpse of red clouds on the cloak's interior. An Akatsuki cloak, turned inside-out.

"My name is Uchiha Madara."

* * *

"How are you, Shishou?"

Tsunade's tired gaze met hers. "I haven't been your teacher in a long time, Sakura."

Sakura shrugged her shoulders, pulling out a slim jug of sake and two cups from a shopping bag. "I bring offerings." She said, grinning.

Tsunade's fingers curled over the neck of the flask. The cool, smooth touch of ceramic met her skin. One slim eyebrow rose over her forehead. "Well, well, well." She admired, looking over the expensive name. "What's the occasion?"

"Do we need one?" Falling into a plush cushion, Sakura looked over the dark landscape of Konoha. The rooftop terrace of the Hokage Tower offered a view rivaled only by the mountains nearby. Around them, the chakra of an ANBU unit hummed. There were thrice as many men guarding the Hokage tonight.

"What brings you by?" Tsunade asked over her cup. Closing her eyes when the first sip of sake touched her tongue, she sighed in appreciation.

A seal closed itself over them. "A private chat." Sakura said as she reached for her own drink.

"About?"

"The Hyuga." Her face remained turned towards the star-studded sky, ANBU unable to see her lips shape the words.

"Hinata-" Tsunade interrupted, also watching the night. "-already told me."

"Do you believe her?"

Tsunade sipped from her cup. "I don't know."

"Neji deliberately let me in on a conversation I wasn't privy to. That-" Sakura paused, sorting her thoughts. "-that makes me nervous. I don't know if he did it to give proof of the Hyuga's innocence, or if it's all a ruse."

"Their story seems to hold. Kakasi brought some information to back it up. I'm sure-" Tsunade's eyes cut to hers. "-that you already know what was found, since Sai is the one who found it."

Sakura held her gaze for a moment, before looking away guiltily. "Sai might have mentioned it."

Tsunade's scoff rang out loudly. "So what really brings you by?" She asked after a time.

Sakura grinned. "That transparent?"

"Like glass."

A cloud rolled by overhead. Faintly, they could make out it's edges floating past the sky. "Looks like rain tomorrow." Tsunade observed.

"Shishou?" She let the name hang between them, mixing with the cricket song that had been playing for most of her visit. She ran a finger over the rim of her cup. "After Dan died-"

That alone was enough for Tsunade's head to stay rigidly facing the view.

"-did you ever feel again, for another man?"

A slight smile pulled Tsunade's lips. "Is my student in love?"

"Shishou." Sakura groaned.

"Well?"

Shaking her head, Sakura sighed gently. "No, Shishou. I was just…thinking. And wandering."

Tsuande's head turned to her, gaze steadily watching. "I did."

Sakura seemed surprised. Her eyes, wider than usual, met Tsunade's smirk. "Really?"

"What, you think love is a one time deal. No repeats? We're not talking about your virginity here, Sakura." Tsunade expected her reaction, and she laughed at it.

Sakura's fast, little gasp was followed by a loud, indignant shout. "Shishou!" Her cheeks were red.

"Sorry." She apologized without any sort of remorse. "It's the sake." She poured herself another cup.

"_My ass"_ Tsunade heard her mumble.

The disturbing sound of two cats fighting reached them. Their cries bled into the night. When they spotted one grey cat walking the high wall between two buildings, Sakura prompted her. "Shishou?"

"I did. Fall in love again."

Tsunade could see she wanted to ask _who_, but held back. She answered her anyway. "Jiraiya was a perverted fool, but he grew on me."

Sakura felt her heart tighten. "Oh, Shishou." To have loved and lost twice. She couldn't begin to imagine it.

"I don't think I'm a woman meant for love."

"I wish I had known." Sakura offered softly.

Tsunade shook a shoulder, hoping to come off as unaffected, but Sakura saw the look in her eyes. "I've been alone most of my life. You get used to it."

Silence crowded over them. Sakura played with her cup of sake, watching the drink swirl in rough circles. Tsunade pretended to see the stars.

"I don't want you to think-" She said to her. "-just because I've had some bad luck, that you shouldn't try again. And don't feel guilty, either." Her last sentence was typically gruff, grumbles more than anything. "The living have to live. It takes a hell of a lot more to do that than to just keel over and die. You're not a coward, are you, Sakura?" She teased.

"No."

"Good, or I'd disown you."

"Of course, Shishou. Oh, and Shishou?"

Tsunade huffed. "What is it now?

Sakura held her gaze, reaching for and squeezing her hand. "Me and Shizune will always be here for you."

"You better be, brat. Now, pour me some sake."

Sakura did, filling her own cup as well. "I heard, Shishou, that the blast in the hospital came from the Records Room."

Tsunade sipped her sake. "You heard right."

"I remember seeing something…someone there that didn't seem to fit in."

Back straightening, shoulders rising, Tsunade shifted in her seat, angling towards Sakura. "Who might that be?"

Hesitating, Sakura looked into her drink. "I…Will you give me some time to look into it? My paranoia may have gotten the best of me."

There was quiet between them. Tsunade swept her tongue over the inside of her teeth, the tang of alcohol sharp. "I want reports of everything you find-" Her eyes dug into Saukura's. "-as soon as you find it. If I don't hear from you in a week, you will be called into my office and you will tell me who you suspect. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Shishou."


	15. Day 536: The Uchiwa, Part I

**Author's Note:**

To address some reviews:

-This is most definitely a Sasuke and Sakura story, and both characters will eventually figure that out themselves, so no worries there!

-As to Ino and Shikamaru tying the knot, that's a possibility…

As always, this one goes out to the reviewers, whose considerate and kind reviews lend encouragement.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Day 536 **

**The Uchiwa, Part I**

Sasuke stood in the midst of chaos. His breath came in harsh pants, his chakra so angry a whirlwind, it was a wonder it didn't sweep through the paper in the room. His feet were shoulder-length apart, buried deep in a pile of ruined scrolls, old ledgers, splintered wood, and priceless books. A shaft of pale moonlight fell over him from the high windows of the Uchiha Records Hall. The vast library was mostly dark, lit only by the glow of the bright night and the weary flickering light of tired lanterns with oil as old as the massacre of the great Uchiha family—likely when they were last changed. Dust was thick in the air, floating lazily around him, looking like the thinnest snowfall caught by the moon. Sasuke paid no attention to the bookshelves he'd toppled or the disaster he'd made of his clan's prized archives—where apart from antique manuscripts older than Konoha itself, there was scroll upon scroll of every jutsu the Uchiha had ever mimicked, all carefully recorded in infallible writing. His eyes were glazed with a touch of blank madness, staring solidly at the worn silk emblem of his family that hung from a wall of dull, polished wood.

_"Itachi was ordered to kill them all, ordered by Konoha's precious council to murder his family._"

The curse seal sent a spasm of pain through his nerves. His jaw twitched and his shoulders arched with the strain of controlling it. It had been some time since he'd felt the burn of black markings spreading over his skin.

_"The team they'd chosen for the job would leave no one alive. But if he did it, as they asked, he could spare _you_: his darling, little brother."_

He reached for the ground, snatching a broken sliver of wood in a tight fist before flinging back his arm in one jostled blur of movement—a savage cry ripping from his throat. The beam shattered against the silk banner with an explosion of splinters and the sound of a boat's hull splitting in two. One of the cords holding the emblem snapped, the fabric swung side to side, crooked.

Back bowed, arm still dangling from his throw, Sasuke's chest heaved, breath louder than before. His face was cloaked by the shadows of his bangs, through them the red of his sharingan blazed in two pinpricks of hellish light, floating from the silhouette of a featureless face.

_"It doesn't make sense. None of what you're saying makes any fucking sense!"_

_"If you don't believe me, then find the clan's meeting place."_

_"I've already been there!"_

_"A decoy. The real thing is in the Records Hall. Find it."_

Sasuke's stare followed the fall of the banner. The hem, where a metal rod had held the cloth high from the floor between two braided cords, slipped slowly. The silk wavered to the ground softly, settling in a murmur of butterfly wings.

On the wall, painted straight into the wood and sealed behind its even layer of varnish, was another uchiwa. His gaze drew itself almost immediately to the edges, where the sharingan caught the delicate shapes of characters woven so carefully and written so thinly they'd look like nothing but an outline to the naked eye. He had to step within a foot of them to read.

They were instructions for a fire jutsu, a simple one. It was the first fire jutsu his father had taught him, indeed the first one most Uchiha learned. His red eyes slid over the characters shrewdly, but not without frustration. It wasn't until his gaze landed on the microscopic character for _here_, dead-center on the uchiwa, that he knew.

His legs propelled him backwards, until he was a safe distance away. Not bothering with thoughts of failure—and the volumes of dry old paper surrounding him—Sasuke formed the seal with agile fingers. Blowing through the guide of his hand, he felt the heat eat through the moisture of his mouth and lick by his lips. A controlled burst of fire blazed over the tiny spot in the uchiwa.

Sasuke watched, muscles tense, as the fire crashed against the wall, spread to either sides, then disappeared in orange ribbons. Nothing happened; neither to the wall, nor to the immediate area around it. A burst of anger spread through him, face falling into a scowl. He turned sharply, ready to leave—except, the rattling stopped him.

Looking over his shoulder with one part nonchalance and one part grudging hope, he watched six wide floorboards—those immediately under his family's crest—rise as one. The sound of a joint popping rang lightly through the room as a tiny sliver of space revealed itself beneath them. With careful movements, Sasuke pulled the hatch up. A wide, black mouth stared at him. Vaguely, he could make out a wooden ladder disappearing deep into the darkness. He didn't pause, and didn't much care when the door slid shut behind him. He stood still for a moment after the last breath of light was swallowed by the floor overhead. Sharingan gradually adjusting, he walked. The steps led to a hallway. There weren't any switches along the walls, like there were in the Record's Hall—although if there had been, they wouldn't have worked. The floor underfoot was the bare, hard earth of Konoha, as were the walls and ceiling. Along the beams that bore the weight of the tunnel, he didn't spot any lanterns or torches. Though some sort of fluorescence veined the rock of the ceiling, just enough for him to pick through the dark. This was a space built for the sharingan.

Sasuke's chakra, a storm of energy, was crackling again. He was betting that the man was wrong, that he was some mad idiot from Akatsuki with a penchant for dramatics. Every step he took tore down that thought. When the tunnel emptied into a large cavern, with his family's emblem etched into the walls and at the head of the room, more doubt was peeled away. The air was damp, cool with humidity, but it did nothing for the fever blazing across his skin. Turning in place, Sasuke took it all in: the old stamp of feet, the lanterns hanging in neat rows from the ceiling, the simple dais of dark wood. It looked like a pauper's replica of the Meeting Hall. His hands clenched into fists; he moved through another doorway. His footsteps made soft whispers over the ground, bouncing quietly against the walls. His toe struck something. A metallic _clang_ reverberated once, twice. He looked downwards, catching the black shape of a kunai. Picking the kunai from the ground, he held it close to his face, but he couldn't make out the details. Purposefully, he marched back into the large chamber, lighting a lantern that hung from the wall behind the dais. The wrappings on the kunai were yellow with age. But it was the blood that caught his attention. He dropped it to the ground. With a sickening sense of realization, he stared at his hand, then at the kunai. Ripping the lantern from its place, Sasuke followed the second tunnel. It led him into a square room filled with shelves that had been carved straight from the earth. Scrolls packed each one, and in one corner, dry flesh still hanging from his skeleton, was a corpse.

He knew, knew without a doubt that this man had been murdered that night by his brother's own hand. He gripped a shelf to hold himself steady. The memory of the massacre was sharper than the taste of bile in his esophagus. He stared listlessly at the body, watched it until he felt the rise of his anger replace the fear and disgust. Regulating his breathing, he turned back to the scrolls and, face blank, pulled one from the shelf and began to read.

* * *

Suiguitsu drank deeply from his canteen, water tracing tributaries down his chin. His throat struggled to keep up, Adam's apple bobbing with each desperate swallow. The last drop rolled lazily over his tongue and he dropped his empty canteen, gasping for breath.

"Fuck," he whispered.

The dry heat stirred around him, a belch of desert air falling over the ground. He scrubbed a hand over his skin, flicking away the sand stuck to his sweat. His tongue, when he swept it across his lips, caught on a topography of cracked skin.

The view ahead of him was desolate, with only sparse, stumped plants dotting the land. Turning, he looked at the faint outline of Suna. The sun beat against the stone and sand, jumping at him with nearly as harsh a strength as the rays peeling his back. Juugo had told him once about the Sunaese Ocean that covered this land millions of years ago. _Or was it billions?_ In either case, it was damn inconceivable that this hellish wasteland was its legacy.

"This way."

He followed the guard, walking at a leisurely distance. The man stopped at the gates, whispering to a comrade that waved two fingers at a watch tower. The doors to the village pulled apart with the creaking of dry wood, parting slowly like the lips of a woman unwilling to kiss. He crossed the threshold, leaving Suna's gatekeepers behind and slipping through the narrowest, shadiest alleys he could find, keeping well below the ample awnings that flapped reluctantly in the dead wind.

The streets were deserted; it was only an hour after high noon and not many natives to Suna ventured out willingly. One brave merchant sat drooping in his stool, chin resting against his wrinkled palm. His face was slick and greasy, loose robes dank with sweat. Suiguitsu felt his own shirt stick to the skin of his back, and his hair, where it brushed his temples and neck, was curled in moist, limp locks. The man's eyes followed him as he passed, then settled tiredly on his newspaper.

The weathered wooden sign of _The Mirage_, hung motionlessly over a faded, orange canopy. He slinked into the dark shelter of its shade, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. A veiled woman sat at the bar's end, swigging a tall bottle of beer. He watched the condensation drip from the glass. Moving towards her, he singled the barkeep.

"Water and ice."

The man arched a brow and made to speak, then shook his shoulders and moved to a cooler.

"Not big enough to handle a drink?"

Suiguitsu leaned back in his chair, catching the thick red hair the peaked from the veil and the glasses hiding her eyes.

"You know the answer to that." He said, grinning with a sharp-toothed smile at her upturned chin. "Just ain't in the mood."

"You? Not in the mood?" Her scoff blew over the lip of her beer. Suiguitsu swallowed the water in six gulps, tipping his glass high in the air. Setting it over the counter, he waited until the barkeep turned away to store some merchandise. Quickly, without giving her any time to act, he pressed his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue over them and catching the taste of her beer.

She made an angry sound deep in her throat, boxing his ear sharply and harshly.

"Fuck!" He yelled, scooting away from her without leaving his seat. "Fine, fuck you too, you ugly bitch. Don't know why I bother," he added under his breath.

She gripped the neck of her beer harshly and shot him a look, then leaned close and whispered in his ear. He felt her warm words breeze over his skin and he tensed the toes of one foot, holding his breath. A blush dusted his nose and he scowled when she pulled back, laughing.

"That," she teased, "is why you _bother_."

Scoffing, he slapped his palm over the counter. "More water, barkeeper."

The man swiped up the glass, face set in hard lines. He made a lot of noise while he refilled and when he slammed the glass in front of Suiguitsu, some of the water poured over the sides in an angry, little wave. Suiguitsu spared him a glance with narrowed brows then turned back to Karin. He watched her openly, one hand curled around his drink, the other propping up his chin lazily. Her robes were loose and broad, but nearly transparent. His gaze swept to the outline of her knee, following its lines below the hazy curtain of her robe. Skin, smooth and tanned, peeked through a high slit and he just saw the edge of her black shorts. He swallowed, and brought his gaze back to her face. She was watching him. He didn't say anything, busy tracing the outline of her red hair underneath the loose veil.

"What's with the headgear?"

There was a beat of silence before her lips, a glossy rouge, parted wordlessly. Finally, she shrugged and swigged her beer. "Girl's gotta find some way to keep cool."

He reached out a hand and dragged the veil away from her forehead and down her neck, unwrapping a short, red mane. From the corner of his gaze, he could see the barkeeper stare with wide eyes before suddenly turning his back on them. He dug his fingers into her hair and ran them over her scalp. Her head fell back into his hand and her shoulders loosened, breath slipping softly from her as her eyes closed. He turned her jaw towards him and kissed the underside of her ear. Her eyes were open again when he pulled back. Pulling out two coins from his pocket, he dropped them over the counter and held out a hand to her as he stood. She remained unmoving, gaze flicking briefly to his hand then to the money as the barkeeper picked it up.

"Paying my tab?"

He shrugged and withdrew his hand. Fluidly, she slipped from her seat and walked by him, all breezing robes and swinging hips. His lips curled into a smile and he followed wordlessly, gripping his sword out of habit as he fell into step at her side. She led him to her inn, where he climbed the stairs up to her dingy, beat up room with questionable sheets, ugly furniture, and not a drop of luggage. She locked the door behind him and turned to meet his stare.

"So…"

Crossing her arms under her chest, she rose, one fine eyebrow. "Small talk, really?"

His brow wrinkled and his teeth glinted dangerously from his mouth. "If you just want to skip ahead to the fucking part, I sure as hell don't have a problem with that."

Her headscarf smacked him in the face. It was heavier than he though, and the slap of hard glass made him notice for the first time the little beads that trimmed the edges. He swiped it away quickly. "What the hell was that for, you crazy bitch!" He growled, rubbing one sore eye.

"That was for being an insensitive bastard, you fucking asshole."

Before he could answer, she was unwinding her robe and speaking. "I found the information Sasuke wanted."

The tingle of a shield buzzed over his skin. Standing, he reached for her hands as they struggled with a knot at her waist. Slowly, and with more patience than he was known for, he undid the tie.

"Itachi did it. He killed them all. But he had help."

Slipping cloth from another knot, he asked, "You got any proof for that?"

Lifting her hands over his, she reached into the crevice of her top. His eyes followed her fingers as they disappeared down her shirt. She pulled a tiny summoning scroll and took his wrist, spreading his palm open and dropping the scroll into it. "It's all there. I've got another copy with me, you hold onto that one."

He took a step back, holding her wrists, and racked his gaze over her from toe to head, grinning. "Can I know where you keeping the other one?"

She smirked and struck her chin out, angling her head high and looking down her nose at him. "Why don't you find it yourself, bastard." His answer was a barking laugh and a hard kiss.

* * *

The sun peaked over Konoha's monument, pouring across the stone face of each hokage at a leisurely, measured pace. She watched the first fingers of dawn reach through the window and crawl across the floor of Yoshida's office. When the lock rattled, she faced the door, calmly sitting at the couch's edge. Yoshida shuffled in with a wide yawn, balancing a heavy satchel, a steaming mug, and his keys. Gaze unwavering, she watched him set the cup over his desk, mindful of the papers spread over its surface, then drop his keys into a clear jar and tuck his bag into an empty nook on his bookshelf.

He turned and walked towards her, stopping abruptly upon seeing her. His hands clenched as he startled. "Sakura-san." He broke into an uneasy smile. "What are you doing here?"

Sakura returned his smile, but it was a tight line drawn over her face. "Why don't you sit down, Yoshida-san. There's something I'd liked to ask you."

He hesitated, then slowly walked to her with stifled steps. He sat at the very edge of a nearby armchair. "What can I do for you today, Sakura-san? Would you like some tea?" Yoshida made to get up, but Sakura stopped him.

"That won't be necessary, Yoshida-san."

His knees lowered him back into his seat. Brows knitting together, he opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. "Sakura-san is this about our old sessions? You could have called for an appointment, Sakura-san." Looking at his watch, he added, "I have a patient coming in shortly."

She cut him off, "I'm not here as a patient."

Silence hung over them and Yoshida gazed at her unwaveringly. "I—I don't understand, Sakura-san." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked hesitantly, "is this about my son? Is he alright"

"He's fine, Yoshida-san."

"Then—"

Sakura pulled a recorder from her flak jacket unhurriedly. She set it carefully over the low table between them and eased the play button. Yoshida's voice, crackling with some static, but clear and unmistakable, filled the room.

She observed his face, watching as his skin paled and his lips parted, breath falling from his mouth.

_"I have access to the Records Room. Your man will be able to get in and out unnoticed."_

A second voice, low, cultured, and frigid, answered. _"I'm sure he will. You haven't failed me thus far and I'm sure you won't fail me now, Sensei. Am I right?"_

_"No, I won't fail you."_

_"Of course not, Sensei. You and I have much to lose should you fail."_

Sakura reached for the recorder, hand curling over it and stopping the transmission. Yoshida was ashen and unmoving, staring blankly with wide eyes. She waited for him to meet her gaze.

"Did you know, Yoshida-san, that ANBU keeps records of all phone conversations incoming to and outgoing from Konoha? It's a brilliant storage system, with enough space to save up to five years of phone logs, more if the individual in question is up to no good. Are you up to no good, Yoshida-san?"

Yoshida stumbled over his words, "Sakura-san please, I—"

Her eyes were unforgiving, but her voice remained gentle. "Who was the man you were talking to?"

Shaking, Yoshida stood from his chair quickly. "Please, you must understand, I—"

With unhurried motions, Sakura stood as well. "How long have you been leaking information to him?"

"I haven't—"

"Did you tell him about my team, Yoshida?"

Quiet gripped the space in an unrelenting hold, strangling the air around them. Yoshida stared at her with glassy, pleading eyes. "Please." He whispered.

Sakura felt her heart skip against her ribs and for a moment she had to grit her teeth to keep her voice level. "Did you tell this man the identities of my teammates, Yoshida?"

"I had no choice," he whispered, then repeated louder. "I had no choice!" He rushed to her and grasped her hand. "I had no choice, Sakura-san!"

Sakura slapped his hands away and took a step back.

"I had no choice," he said again.

"Did you tell him?"

Yoshida stared at her for three long, painful heartbeats, then uttered a quiet "_yes"._

She felt her breath catch within her throat and an unshakable rage blindsided her. Her hands were around his neck and digging into his flesh before she even realized what she was doing. She slammed him against the beautifully worked bookshelf she'd once complimented, uncaring as his head made a dull, loud noise against their edge or as several papers and trinkets fell around them.

She spoke over his strangled yell. "What about the hospital? Was that you too? That day at the records room, was that you making a _test run_?" She spat her words against his ear and Yoshida clawed at her hands, but though he was a man much older and taller than her, she was a shinobi with chakra lacing her fists. He felt like a doll in her grip. The memory of the ambush that was set up for her and her team flared to life. She heard the man's voice as he plunged a syringe into her thigh, mockingly whispering her name, "_Haruno Sakura, an ANBU from Leaf. Pleasure to meet you."_

"Sakura-san—"

She slammed him again into the bookshelf. "Answer me quickly, Yoshida."

"Yes! But not for the reasons you—"

She let him fall to the ground, backpedaling away from him, trying to catch her breath and curling her hands into fists.

"He was your brother." She spat. "And you led him to his slaughter!"

From the ground, Yoshida, shook his head, coughing and crying. "Please, you must understand! You must understand!"

Sakura knelt to one knee and spoke slowly. "I have been looking for the traitor that outted my team for months, Yoshida. I want your head on a pike, so you better give me one good, fucking reason why I shouldn't drag you to ANBU's interrogation unit."

"I had no choice!"

"He was your brother," she repeated. "Akira was your brother!"

"And Ichiro is my son."

His words, though whispered, were louder than his urgent pleadings. She curled her fingers into the fabric over her thighs and asked him calmly—as calmly as she could—to elaborate.

Yoshida straightened his back and leaned his head against a shelf. He caught his breath for a moment and began. "Over a year ago, a man contacted me. I didn't recognize his voice and he has never given me a name. He told me I had access to privileged information which he needed." Pausing to fix his glasses, Yoshida cradled the back of his head in one hand, wincing. Sakura waited. "I do have access to privileged information. Patient names and files, records from the hospital, and though ANBU is careful never to reveal the more sensitive information of the patients they send to me, it was impossible for me to not know the guarded secrets of Akira when he was both my brother and patient. At first I ignored the man's requests. And when he became more insistent I tried to contact the Hokage. That was when the first accident occurred." Yoshida's eyes fluttered closed. "I came home late one night to a door that was wide open and a ransacked house. My wife was beaten, lying on the kitchen floor, bloody but alive. We thought it was thieves, so did the police, until the next day the man called. He asked after my wife—" Yoshida choked on his words and spat them out through his teeth. "He said, _'How is your wife doing? Should I send flowers to her room? 522B, correct?'_" Pressing his palm roughly over his eyes, he continued. "I gave him the files of four people he asked after. I thought he would leave me alone. But he didn't; he asked for more and more and when he wanted information on my brother, I tried to ask for help again. Then he went after my son. Ichiro got home from a simple mission with a broken collarbone."

"Ichiro's latest injuries," Sakura interrupted, "were those another warning?"

Yoshida nodded his head. "He's my son, Sakura-san, my son. I must protect him. Please—" Quickly, Yoshida gripped her forearm, eyes wide and crazed "Please, I know I cannot ask anything of you, but I beg you to protect them. He will know I've spoken, he will know and he will try to kill my family. I beg you!"

Sakura pried him off. "They will be protected until your statements are verified."

"And after?"

"After as well, if you're telling the truth."

Yoshida nodded. "I am."

Sakura broke their gaze and reached into her jacket, pulling out the recorder she pressed the button that would stop it from continuing to listen in. Tapping twice at the transmitter behind her ear, she waited for a man dressed in ABNU's colors to slip through the door.

She handed him the recorder and turned to Yoshida. "He will escort you to ANBU's headquarters. You will not be seen and your family will be placed under protective custody."

The man gripped Yoshida under the elbow and dragged him up. Yoshida followed without complaint.

Sakura went to the window, staring out over Konoha as they left. At the door, Yoshida's voice called her.

"Please do not tell Yukari."

Sakura turned her head marginally. "It's not my place to tell her."

"Thank you."

After they were gone, she pressed her forehead against the glass. Her shoulders slumped and she felt like a sluggish river months after the rainy season. She realized, as she stared at Konoha, that she had no one to blame anymore.

* * *

**Terms:**

Uchiwa = paper fan (it's the namesake of the Uchiha clan)


	16. Day 536: The Uchiwa, Part II

**Author's Note:**

Remember, some time has elapsed between part I and part II (so it's not really "Day 536').

As always, this chapter goes out to the reviewers! Many thanks for the patience and encouragement.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Day 536 **

**The Uchiwa, Part II**

The door was pulled open quickly and harshly. His fist, which was still raised after his first and only knock, uncurled into a poorly-shaped wave with no conviction.

"Hi." He said lamely, leaning back somewhat.

Mrs. Kato stared at him with flat eyes and her hand resting impatiently on her hip. "You're late."

Kakashi swallowed thickly, pushing into her hands the wildflower bouquet he'd gotten from a nearby stand. "My apologies, Mrs. Kato—" He continued in a suave voice, neatly glossing over his anxiety. "—I hope the flowers are to your liking."

She took the bouquet from him, looking it over briefly before setting him with a knowing glance. "They're lovely." She added for courtesy's sake.

"Not as lovely as you." Kakashi trilled, hands returning to his pocket.

Mrs. Kato made no response, only pressed her lips in a tight line that curled unwillingly at the edges before stepping aside to let him pass. "Rin has been waiting for nearly two hours."

He paused within the foyer, staring at the guest slippers waiting there and unsure if he should remove his shoes. He hoped he wouldn't be staying long.

"We thought—_I_ thought—" Mrs. Kato corrected as she swept into the house, heading straight for the kitchen to find a vase. "—that you had stood her up."

Kakashi only half-heartedly followed her words, attention set otherwise between his feet and the pictures of a younger Rin hanging at his side. There was even a picture of him with her and Obito.

"But I see I misjudged you, Hatake-san."

Obito had his arm wrapped over Rin's shoulder, eyes stuck on her face. And he was watching the camera with bored, series eyes that were as dull, angry, and black as Sasuke's. Rin had her hand lightly placed over his forearm, her cheeks were flushed, and she was watching him with a bright, wide stare.

Mrs. Kato, trimming the ends of the flowers, called out to him again. "Aren't you coming in, Hatake-san?"

He turned his face towards her. "I um—" He scratched the back of his head. "I have reservations for eight."

Mrs. Kato's eyes flicked over to the clock hanging beside the refrigerator. "Well, I hope you haven't lost them. Rin will be down shortly."

Kakashi nodded, waiting in the foyer as she disappeared up the stairs. He leaned one shoulder against the wall, eyes glancing over the small living room with two tan armchairs and a matching loveseat. It hadn't changed since the last time he'd been here and he found that both comforting and unsettling, like he was decades late to pick Rin up for practice.

He heard the sound of footsteps tentatively making their way down the stairs and looked up to watch Rin, one foot daintily touching down on the third step from the landing and right hand curved over the banister, making her way towards him. She wore half a smile and a closely fitted black dress with a flattering cut that swooped from shoulder to shoulder. Her pale legs were darkened by thin, black stockings and a checkered shawl was draped over her elbow. There were diamond studs in her ears and her short hair was slicked back in an edgy, elegant style. His eyes racked her from the crown of her head to the tip of her patent-leather flats and he had to swallow down a curse word. He'd never seen her look more grown-up.

"Hi." He managed.

"You wore a suit." Were her first words.

He shrugged. "You wore a dress."

She draped her shawl around her shoulders and huffed. "I always wear dresses."

_Not like that_, he wanted to say. Instead he nodded complacently.

Glancing at her mother, Rin dropped a kiss on her cheek. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He stepped back as Mrs. Kato took Rin into a tight embrace and started whispering into her ear. _"You be home early._

_"And be careful._

_"And mind yourself._

_"And call me if you're running late."_

_"And-"_

_"Mooom." _

He heard Rin whine. _"I'll be fine."_ She whispered back.

Mrs. Kato kissed her on both cheeks, then set her sights on him. The soft look in her eyes hardened instantaneously. "I'm sure I don't have to remind a gentleman such as yourself, Hatake-san, to treat my daughter like the lady she is."

"No, mam." Kakashi assured her.

"Well then—"

Rin hurried by Mrs. Kato, gripping his hand quickly and moving to the door.

"Bye, ma!" She called out over her shoulder, ignoring the loud protest as she shut the door delicately, but firmly, behind her. She leaned into it momentarily and sighed. "You're late, you know."

"You see—" He began as he placed his hands in his pocket and headed towards Main Street. "—There was this cat, that was stuck under a flower-stand, that was on the other side of Konoha, that was—"

"Where are we going?" She interrupted.

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

From the corner of his eyes, he glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead, arms clutching her purse to her chest.

"You did before." He prodded, casually watching the road.

A noncommittal _"yes" _was her answer, but she didn't say more on the matter.

The air around them was pleasantly warm for autumn and Kakashi thanked his luck that the weather was mild enough for Rin.

Tilting her head to him, she asked again. "So, where are we going?"

With a long, dramatic sigh that upset his shoulders, he finally conceded. "The Teahouse."

Rin's brow rose in confusion. "The what?"

"It's a new hotel. We're going to the restaurant in the hotel."

"Fancy."

The glow from the lanterns lining Main Street came into view and they enjoyed their brilliant light in silence, watching the villager's as they made their way to their destination.

"I don't remember Konoha ever needing a hotel before." Rin finally said.

"It doesn't, but it's a popular hangout."

Kakashi glanced at Rin covertly, taking in her profile. When she caught him, he scratched his neck. "You look beautiful." He finally said, not looking her way.

Rin blushed and murmured a soft "_thank you_" as she watched her feet.

"I wanted to wear heels." She suddenly admitted, concentrating on the sharp edge of her flats.

Kakashi's eyes darted to her legs and he averted his gaze quickly when the image of her in high, black pumps flickered to life. "And why didn't you?" He hoped he sounded as casual as he intended.

"My leg is still too messed up to handle long walks in them."

There was a pause between them in which Kakashi couldn't help but think '_And short walks?'_

"But—" She continued with a shy smile that contrasted the short, coy look she threw at him. "—I hope to soon."

"Can't wait." He had to say.

Laughing, she knocked into his shoulder. Kakashi pretended to be off-balanced, stumbling a step to the side. "Ja, ja, don't abuse."

"As if anybody could land a hand on you, Kakashi."

"Depends on the hand."

She met his unwavering gaze, then broke it suddenly, touching her hands to her warm face.

"You look stronger, Rin." He told her with more sobriety.

She nodded. "I feel stronger."

Kakashi's gaze flicked to her and he asked: "Everything's alright?"

She didn't speak straightaway, instead giving herself some time to turn the question over. "I have three more months of antibiotics to go, then I'll get the ulcer taken care of, and somewhere in between my therapist might let me wear heels."

"What about everything else?" He persisted.

"I think—" She finally said. "—everything will be as fine as I can ever hope it to be."

Turning to face her, he stepped into her path and jaywalked as he spoke. "Everything will be better. You'll see."

When she stopped, he did too. She brought her hands up to his jaw, brushed her fingers by his ear, and pulled his mask away in one quick move. She tucked it into her purse and smiled triumphantly.

The feel of her touch was still sending currents down his spine, but he managed to sound coherent in spite of it. "I thought you liked the mask."

Rin didn't answer, only walked quickly past him with burning cheeks.

"Are you going to tell me why you were really late?" She said as he caught up.

"As I was purchasing flowers for your lovely mother—" He ignored her sharp glare. "—I was compelled to save an old woman, who was being harassed by an old man, who was apparently in love with her, whose affections were much too passionate, who was accompanied by his group of go partners, who were lending their obscene encouragement, which was naturally upsetting the old woman, who was calling for help, but who was—"

Shaking her head, Rin stepped around him into the hotel.

"Why does no one ever believe me?" Kakashi asked the doorman.

"I believe you, sir." The man assured him.

* * *

Sakura lifted her hand to reach for a carton of milk, but she hovered uncertainly. Should she get plain milk or chocolate milk? She could add her own cocoa powder to the plain milk at home and it would taste better than the premixed chocolate. But the premixed was so much more convenient. She saved washing an extra spoon that didn't need washing, she saved buying an extra can of cocoa powder that didn't need buying, she could even save herself the trouble of washing glassware if she drank straight from the carton. She sighed and grabbed the plain milk. Ninjas shouldn't be lazy.

Placing the carton into her basket, she moved down the aisles. She would need some cocoa powder. As she was passing the small selection of produce, she saw the unmistakable dark hair of Uchiha Sasuke. Walking towards him, she came to a stop beside him, pretending to search for a ripe tomato. She felt him glance at her from the corner of his eye. When the silence stretched out between them, she spoke up. "You could say hi, you know. It wouldn't kill you to be social."

She watched his hand as it paused over an especially red tomato. Sakura snatched it up before he did. His gaze, angrier than she expected, snapped up towards hers. His eyebrows were narrowed over his eyes, which were black, somewhat dull, and underlined by purple pits.

Her grip faltered and she nearly dropped the tomato. Staring, she asked: "You alright?"

"Fine." He replied. Without another word, he turned and headed down the aisle. She followed him quickly to the checkout, but he was already gone. His shopping basket, with its untied bag of six tomatoes and a carton of eggs was abandoned over the counter. Sakura stood, gaze fixed on the still-swinging noren flaps under which he had disappeared. She felt a shiver crawl across her skin. His chakra had been as dark as when he'd first arrived to Konoha.

"Sakura-sama?"

She turned abruptly to meet Moegi's curious gaze. Her bright hair, usually in pigtails, was loose and falling down her back, held away from her face by a thin, white band.

"Hello, Moegi."

Moegi, hands clutching her basket, bent at the waist to bow. "It's wonderful to see you again, Sakura-sam—senpai."

Nodding, Sakura unloaded her things at the counter. "I haven't seen you in months, Moegi-san. Things have been keeping me busy."

Moegi hummed sympathetically as she waited for the man to ring-up Sakura-sama's order.

"How is Konohamaru?" Sakura glanced over her shoulder at Moegi.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Exasperating." She picked at the wrapping of her bread, mouth set in a firm line. "We're arguing right now. He's an idiot."

Sakura wanted to smile at her comment, but instead she said: "I'm sorry about that."

"Yeah." Moegi sighed, eyes distant as she watched the ceiling.

Sakura caught the gleam of metal on Moegi's hand. There, wrapped around the fourth finger of her hand, was an engagement ring. "Moegi, is that—?"

Following her stare, Moegi, slapped a palm over her fingers and blushed furiously.

"Congratulations." Sakura offered with a soft smile.

"Thank you, Sakura-sam—senpai." She said without meeting her gaze.

"Miss."

Sakura looked at the cashier, whose tired, bored face nodded at the cash register. "Would you like paper or plastic?"

After paying, Sakura waited with Moegi as her groceries were rung-up.

"So, when's the wedding?"

Moegi, who had her hand wrapped around a jar of pickled vegetables, fumbled with the glass. "Sakura-sama!"

"Senpai." She corrected.

"Sakura-senpai,-" Moegi conceded. "—the wedding won't be for a while. Will you come? When we do have it?"

Sakura imagined Moegi in a wedding kimono, sharing a cup of sake with Konohamaru, and she thought about herself and Naruto and how close they had been. "I'd love to come."

Moegi beamed, gripping the jar of vegetables close to her chest. "Konohamaru will be glad." The brightness in her eyes dimmed and she turned back to the cashier. "If there ever is a wedding." She muttered.

"I'm sure there will be." Sakura told her with easy conviction.

Nodding, Moegi handed her money to the cashier and picked up her bags. "Konohamaru was touched to receive Naruto-sama's pendant."

"I know, he told me." Sakura said, stepping out into the warm night. "Just tell him—" She added half-jokingly. "—that I expect him to live up to his promise."

When Moegi had disappeared behind a corner, Sakura turned sharply towards Sasuke's apartment. She made her way through questionable alleys and climbed the fire-escape that led to the window in his living room. The curtains were drawn, but through the thin sliver left between them, she saw only darkness; neither the TV nor a single light were on and she couldn't feel his chakra. Dropping to the ground, she headed home, pondering his strange behavior.

"What are you up to, Uchiha?"

* * *

They were sitting by a large window overlooking an impressive courtyard of carefully planned stone, sand, wood, and tall bamboo. He was leaning back, weight held by his palms; she, leaning forward with her forearms, but not her elbows, over the low table. The restaurant was nearly empty, with only the workers and another table far away from their own occupying the space.

Taking her cup of tea, Rin stared at the leaves as they stirred in the water. "The food was incredible."

Kakashi reached for his choku, downing the rest of his sake. "Hm."

Their waiter, dressed impeccably and with an equally irreproachable demeanor, placed their dessert delicately before them, before bowing and retreating.

Rin touched her fork, looking between Kakashi and the glazed apple tart. She fidgeted with her napkin and cleared her throat.

Kakashi laughed. Taking her fork, she dug in spitefully.

"I was wondering how long you would wait."

"It's not polite of me, but since you were teasing, I'll just have to eat the whole thing now."

"Ja, ja." He said, stealing an apple slice with his fingers.

Taking his fork and using it to cleanly split the tart in two, she pushed his half towards him. "You shouldn't be sharing with me." She said when his eyebrow lifted in question.

Snatching her fork, he skewered a piece of the tart, bringing it to his lips. "You're not contagious." He smiled, fork still in his mouth.

"And if I were—"

He cut her off. "I'll take the risk."

"Kakashi."

Looking at her, he set the fork down and waited for her to continue.

She was twirling an apple slice through the vanilla cream, not meeting his stare.

"What exactly are you expecting from tonight?"

He remained unmoving, hoping she'd clarify. When she didn't speak again, he asked: "What do you mean?"

"The flowers, the dinner, the fancy clothes—" She waved a hand over the table and her dress. "Is this something for a friend or…" She didn't finish her thought, choking on the final words as she bowed her head.

"Well, the flowers were for your mother."

She half sighed, half laughed as she chided him. "Kakashi."

"Whatever you want it to be."

She finally met his gaze, eyes snapping to his. "What?"

"Whatever you want it to be." He repeated calmly.

Their dessert lay forgotten between them as they watched each other carefully. Shaking her head, Rin turned to look at the courtyard. She rested her chin on the back of her hand. "I'll be a terrible friend."

"You won't-"

"No, no." She told him firmly, shaking her head, eyes closed. "You _don't_ understand.

"I'm…I'm having a really hard time. I want so much to forget, but _I can't_." Rin placed a hand over her mouth and breathed deeply. "I want to, I really, really want to be normal again. I want to like you the way I used to—"

"Does that mean you don't like me anymore?" He teased half-heartedly.

"Liking, loving, someone isn't my priority now. I have to love myself first again. But I can't manage to like anything right now." She laughed a bit, and with a weak smile turned her face to him. Her eyes were bright. "It's going to take a long time, Kakashi, before I'm ready to be a good friend, and longer for anything else." She whispered the last words shyly, looking at the apple tart. When he didn't answer right away, she added quickly, "If that's what you want, of course. I hope I wasn't too forward, I mean it's just this date, and the way you look at me sometimes, I notice. I hope I'm not making a fool of myself by misinterpreting you, it's perfectly fine if you just want to be friends, I'd be really happy with that too, when I'm ready, I mean, and, and if that's not what you want, and you want more than just friends, I'm fine with that too, I mean, I'd like that too, I think I would, I—"

"Rin." He tilted her head up slightly, barely touching her chin. "Whatever you need, that's what I'll be. Whenever you need it."

They stared at each other for several beats of their hearts, the soft sounds of the restaurant falling away. Kakashi traced the colors in her eyes, brown, hazel, even a fleck or two of gold. She traced the scar that peeked from the edges of his hitai-ate, the memory of those days sharp in her mind.

Laughing suddenly, brokenly, she tilted her head to the side. "It might take a while."

"I can wait."

"It might never even happen. Maybe I'll tell you two years from now I can't stand you."

"And maybe you'll tell me you can't live without me."

"And maybe I won't."

Leaning back to rest his weight on his palms, he answered easily. "I'll take the risk."

After he paid for dinner, they walked back to her house. She wore his coat, and he'd draped her shawl over her head, because despite her protests, she was still fighting TB, and warm night or not, the air was still damp.

Kakashi led her to the front door, stepping with her into the glow of her porch light. They stood quietly for a moment, while she found her keys. Then, she turned to him and gave him a smile. "You made me forget some bad things tonight. I had a good time."

He nodded.

"Goodnight, Kakashi." She squeezed his hand and released her hold, stepping behind her door.

"Goodnight, Rin."

* * *

Daiki rapped on the door. "Hey!" He hollered. "We know you're in there, Uchiha. We can feel your chakra!"

"Yeah!" Yuuto added, banging against the wood with his fist.

"Come on, Sasuke!"

"Open the door, man! This ain't cool!"

"You can't just leave your friends hanging!"

Daiki, brown hair swinging as he whipped to face Yuuto, held a finger to his lips. "Come on." He whispered.

From inside the apartment, Sasuke sat unmoving on the couch. The curtains were drawn, lights off. Only the glow of the harsh noonday sun penetrated the space. His hand, curled over his knee in a white fist, loosened when their yelling ended. Leaning into the couch, he rested his head on the wall at his back, exhaling loudly.

From his room, he heard the sound of a window sliding apart. He narrowed his eyes and stood, turning to face the hall. The door to his room swung open and both boys fell over each other in their haste. When they saw him, and when they felt the sharp spike of his chakra roll angrily over them, their bravado dimmed. Daiki stepped back, bumping into Yuuto.

"Hey, Sasuke." He greeted weakly.

"What—" Sasuke began too calmly. "—are you doing here?"

"Well, we uh—"

"You see—" Daiki tried to finish for Yuuto. "—we just wanted to check up on you. You know, drop in."

"See an old friend." Yuuto contributed.

"Catch up."

"Talk about the weather."

"Share a cup of sake."

"Did you bring the sake, Daiki?"

"Did you?"

"No."

"Well…"

They both looked back at Sasuke hopefully. "You want to get some sake?"

Sasuke walked methodically to his front door. He turned the lock wordlessly and pulled the door open. "I want—" He looked straight at them. "—you to leave."

"We can't."

Sasuke tilted his chin higher. "You can't?" He repeated, still gripping the door.

"We were sent here by the Hokage!" Daiku rushed, placidly holding up his hands.

"To tell you about your new shrink—er, therapist." Yuuto finished, pushing away the red curls that hung in his eyes.

Sasuke waited for them to elaborate, hand tightening over the doorknob and his chakra winding itself tightly into a spring.

"Yeah." Daiki continued, voice gaining some confidence as he stepped forward. "Haven't you heard?"

He stood mute, dark eyes ceding their anger to interest.

"Yoshida died a few nights ago."

"His building caught fire and he was trapped inside." Yuuto filled in.

"And his office was totally trashed. All his records, zip, zilch, gone. Yours too."

"And what—" He spoke tersely. "—does that have to do with me?"

"Well—" Daiki swiped the bridge of his nose, looking hesitantly between him and the couch. Finally he dropped down into an armchair.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. But both he and Yuuto ignored him.

"—It means you have to be re-evaluated, since all the records were destroyed before the Hokage and Yoshida got to talking about your reintroduction to active duty."

He was about to leave them in his own apartment, and the slam the door behind him, when a new chakra signature made him look down his front steps. Sakura stood there, looking up at him. She climbed the steps two at a time, and peeked into his apartment. "Oh, you have company. Good. I thought you were leaving." Sweeping by him, she went to join Daiki and Yuuto. His anger burst forth. Gripping her arm harshly, he pulled her back, dragging her with him to his front steps.

"Hey!" She yelled.

"Hey! You're hurting me, asshole."

He shoved her against the railing, releasing his hold. She rubbed her upper arm, looking between it and him.

"Let me make one thing clear to you—" He started, black eyes blazing, swirling with red. She stared back defiantly, and he saw the first traces of anger in her gaze. "—you do not come to my house whenever the fuck you want. You do not push me around. And you most certainly-" He continued, letting his sharingan takeover. "—do not control me. Do not pretend you do, or I swear you'll wish you'd never been born. Do you understand me, Sakura?"

There was silence between them. The autumn air, still warmed by a burst of late summer, hung stiffly over them. At his back, he could feel Daiki and Yuuto staring. But he kept his eyes on her, watching as her brow, already narrowed, smoothed. Straitening, Sakura brought her hand up to his neck slowly. Lightly, like butterfly wings, her fingers landed over his skin, tracing a path from his throat, to his jugular, to his ear. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. His heart pounded quickly against his rib.

He was too surprised to do anything but stare and he never thought she'd be quick enough, or brave enough, to hurt him.

She pushed against his neck and he felt the shock of chakra slice into his esophagus. He found it hard to breath.

His sharingan burned brighter, fueled by his indignation, but she did not meet his eyes.

"I may not be as strong as you, Sasuke. But I won't be pushed around." She dropped her hand and stepped around him. His breath rushed back in with a loud pant. He felt humiliated, defeated, and frustrated by her and everyone's meddling, and by this rekindled rage that dragged the ghosts of his family from their graves. Suddenly, he had the inconceivable urge to strike her. The thought of lifting a hand against her in anger, of hitting a woman outside of battle, with her back turned, was enough to sicken him.

He heaved a loud breath and jumped over the railing, disappearing. Fuck them. Fuck them all. He didn't need this now. He had a world to savage.

* * *

"Kakashi, I'm telling you, he's lost it." Sakura held the wireless pressed between her shoulder and ear. She stirred the miso soup with a wooden spoon, using a dishtowel to steady the pot.

"He left bruises!

"No, no. Don't use that tone, that's not the issue."

She opened the cabinet over the stove, pulling out a container of salt and setting it on the counter.

"The issue is he's seriously regressed. As bad, if not worse, than when he first got back. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

"And his apartment was a mess, Kakashi. There were shredded books and papers and scrolls strewn all over the place—all about his clan's genealogy or history." Sakura added as she poured a thin trickle of salt into her soup.

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. He's more organized than Shizune. There's no way he'd let his apartment go to hell like that. Something's wrong, Kakashi. I'm worried about him." She set down the spoon and leaned into the counter. "He had no food, Kakashi. None. His fridge was deserted—only an expired carton of milk and a sandwich that was harboring new organisms. The dry goods weren't much better.

"You should see what he looks like. You need to talk to him. He's always listened to you more than any of us. Well, you and Naruto." She amended.

"No, I'm not gonna back down. I'll be fine, he's not going to murder me and bury me under my begonias.

"I know I don't have begonias—

"I know I don't have any living flowers to speak of. Will you be series! Are you going to check up on him or not?

Sakura snapped the gas off. "Good. Thanks.

"He was doing well, Kakashi." She said with a shake of her head. Eyes narrowing as she continued. "I don't understand what happened. He…I thought he was making his peace. All of a sudden it's like he's back at step one."

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Got it. Don't pressure him. Fine, fine."

Sakura placed the phone in its cradle, hand resting over it for a moment. Sasuke was going to do something stupid. She could feel it.

Sighing, she moved to flick on the stereo in the living room. The lyrics of an old ballad filled the space. Swinging her hips softly in time with the music, she mouthed the words as she grabbed a ladle from a drawer, spooning out her soup into a chipped bowl that Naruto had broken in one of his culinary escapades. She rubbed her finger over the cracked edge with a faraway smile.

_"Sakura-chan! There's foam coming off the ramen! Why is there foam?_

_"It's spilling all over the place! Sakura-chan!"_

With a puff of laughter, she set it against the counter, right between her spoon and her choko. She poured a dribble of sake into her cup, raised it to her face, and toasted the empty air of her townhouse.

"Kampai."

The music played on as she ate and when her meal was halfway through, she got up to turn it off. She touched her forehead to the shelf beside the stereo, feeling her eyes sting.

"That was stupid." She whispered. As she moved back to her seat, she added, "who listens to that crap alone, in an empty apartment while they're eating dinner all by their lonesome self.

"Stupid. Undeniably. Stupid.

"And maybe masochistic.

"Kami, I'm talking to myself."

She threw back another glass of sake, and before she could pour herself a third, someone knocked on her door.

"Ino?" She asked, as she pulled open the door to find her friend on the doorstep, holding an overnight bag. She stepped aside to let her through.

"You okay?"

Ino looked back at her over her shoulder. "Of course."

Sakura locked the door, then strode up the steps to her kitchen. "Did you and Shikamaru have a fight?"

"Huh?"

Sakura pointed to the bag.

"Oh, no. He's on a mission and the apartment was driving me crazy. It's so flipping lonely and they were playing this song on the radio—" Ino spoke rapidly, dropping her bag on an armchair, before sticking her nose in Sakura's pot of soup. "—I almost started crying!" She laughed. "I had to get over here. I hope I'm not intruding on your peace here—"

Sakura was about to say _"no_" that in fact she was saving her from a hangover, before Ino cut her off.

"But if I am, well then, too bad. I'm here to stay until he's back. You have that extra guestroom and I'm not above commandeering it."

"Ino—"

"Really, there's no way I'm going back to my apartment tonight—"

"Ino—"

"Because I just had this really bad feeling after hearing that song. I thought, 'what would I do if Shika died? Would I just stay here all alone day after day?'—"

"Ino—"

"And then I thought about how strong you had to be, and—"

"Ino—"

"And I didn't want to go back to mom and dad's cause they're away for the week—"

"Ino!" Sakura yelled. Ino's eyes, which until now had been darting around the fridge as she searched for something to drink, finally flicked back to Sakura.

"What?"

"You can stay as long as you'd like. In fact, I'm really glad you're here."

Ino rolled her eyes. "Of course you're glad I'm here. I'm me."

Sakura stared at her for a moment, then laughed. "Come on, there's miso in the pot and sake on the table."

As Sakura found a bowl, she asked. "What was the name of the song?"

Ino waved her hand. "Ugh, don't remind me. It's that one they _always _play at weddings."

"The 'forever' one."

"That's the killer."

Sakura pulled a spoon from her drawer and placed it next to Ino as she sat down. "I think you and me becoming friends was destiny."

"Why?" Ino asked, looking at her curiously.

"I was listening to the same song."

Spoon midway to her mouth, Ino paused. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Why the hell did you?" Sakura shot back.

"Because we're both idiots." Ino offered, taking a sip of her soup.

"How is it?" Sakura said, chin lazily resting on her palm.

Ino smacked her lips together and shrugged. "I've had better."

"Pig."

"Forehead."

* * *

Terms:

Noren: Short curtains typically hung from entryways

Choko: small cup for sake


	17. Day 536: The Uchiwa, Part III

**Author's Note:**

Last chapter received some lovely reviews and so dedicated too! The encouragement is much appreciated.

**Remember:** As stated before, it is not actually "Day 536" in this part of chapter 13; time has elapsed.

Dedicated, as always, to the reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Day 536**

**The Uchiwa, Part III**

Tenten paused by a shop window, stooping to catch the reflection of her necklace in the glass. The little fang hung innocuously from its silver chain. She saw her hand reach slowly for it, cradling it between thumb and index finger. The enamel was smooth against her rough skin. Kiba's sister had explained its significance.

A patch of white hovered over her shoulder and her gaze focused on the new figure just behind her. Straightening, she turned to face him.

His long brown hair was styled in its usual manner, and his clothing was crisp and fine. She traced the curve of his elbow, up his forearm, past his wrist, and to the tiny head of black hair.

"Neji."

His white eyes gazed at her for a long moment in which the sound of the village around her fell to a dim. But then he inclined his head in greeting and the moment fell to memory.

She wasn't sure if she should ask for the baby's name. Would he even tell her? The names of children were closely guarded at such a young age, especially from jilted lovers.

"You look well." His voice was low and soft. The baby in his hold stirred, his head bobbed precariously as he tried to find a more comfortable spot on his father's shoulder. She caught the way his palm smoothed over the baby's back gently. For the tiniest sliver of a moment, she wondered if he could have been theirs.

When the silence had stretched for too long, she made a vague gesture with her hand. "You too. Both of you."

"How is Kiba?" He asked.

"Fine." She told him flatly. "And your wife?"

"Fine."

She nodded. Overhead, a cloud rolled onto the sun's path and an umbrella of shade fell over them. "Are you…out for a walk?" She asked, unable to imagine him taking the baby for a stroll.

"I'm meeting Kinuko. She's just began tutoring again."

Tenten gripped the strap of her bag tightly. "Shamisen?"

"Hn."

She turned to leave, not bothering to add an empty _goodbye_ to their empty conversation.

"Tenten."

His voice forced her to pause, eyes set on her black flats.

"I'm sorry."

She did not turn around, only nodded. Tilting her head to the sky, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Yeah." She knew then, that she would never love Kiba the way she'd loved Neji (and probably still did). But she wouldn't be the first or the last woman to have loved and lost. Nor would he be the first or last man to wonder why his wife was not another.

"Take care." She threw over her shoulder at last, threading herself through the crowded street.

Neji watched the edge of her head, eyes fixed on two white ribbons, neatly wrapped around her dark hair. His son fidgeted again, and Neji shifted his gaze. He followed the line of his nose, the curve of his cheek, and the long curl of his lashes. He turned his back, searching for Kinuko's elaborate yukata as she stepped from the doorstep of an affluent building. She walked gracefully towards him, smiling and reaching for their son. There was a heartbeat of tension between them, as she hoped for an affectionate touch from him, but was disappointed by the sting of his carelessness.

"Who were you talking to?"

"No one in particular."

"Oh?" She said, looking at him through her lashes. There was a well-hidden trace of challenge in her tone, as demure as it was.

"Yes." He said firmly.

She did not speak for a moment. Then nodded gently and told him about her student.

"She is still quite young. You should see how beautiful she is. I would enjoy a daughter to coddle, since I doubt you will let me coddle our son."

"I would not let you coddle a daughter, either."

Kinuko tucked the blanket around the baby as she cradled him. "I thought as much."

"You're early." He said calmly, tempted to turn his head. Would she still be there?

"Yes, my student was distracted today. The news excited her family."

He began walking, taking them in the opposite direction. "What news?"

Kinuko looked at him quickly. "I thought you would have heard."

He waited for her to continue.

"Councilman Mitokado passed away last night."

* * *

"How are you getting into the village?"

The man, still in his reversed Akatsuki robe, did not look away from the apple he twirled in his hand. "I have my methods. But that's not really your concern, now is it, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke stood utterly still, face blank. "What do you want from me?"

Madara pressed his thumb against the red skin of the apple, rubbing it methodically over a film of dull dust. "I only want you to know the truth and to gain our clan its due justice."

"And to bury Konoha." Sasuke added from within the shadow of his hallway.

"Oh, I don't want to destroy Konoha, Sasuke-kun." Madara's eyes, set like two glowing rubies within his mask, turned to meet his. "I only want to bring it into good hands."

Sasuke heard the smile in his voice, and he could practically see Madara's lips curling like red licorice. He tilted his jaw higher. "How selfless." He replied with flat sarcasm.

Placing the apple gently over the table at his left, Madara let his fingers drag over its skin, slide over the surface of the wood, and slip lazily to his side. "We are all selfish. You want to avenge your family because they were _your_ family. I want to tumble the government because they made a mockery of _my_ clan. It's all about mine, yours, and ours in this world, Sasuke-kun."

"There is no ours. I don't give a damn about your goals. You gave me the information I needed to accomplish mine. You have nothing left to bargain with."

Madara tilted his head, and took one step forward, breaking the silence with soft laughter. "So _angry_, Sasuke-kun. How do you find the energy, I wonder?"

Sasuke felt his nails dig into the skin of his palms. But he kept his chakra from spiking and returned Madara's steady gaze with cool eyes.

"I don't need you to do anything for me, Sasuke-kun. You've done enough already, and I'm sure you'll do more, all on your own. Think of me as a catalyst, just a trigger for that sharp fury of yours. I set things in motion and your actions will keep them in motion."

"Then why are you here?" He asked, voice low, toneless, but edged with a filigree of threat.

"To warn you. You're drawing attention to yourself, Sasuke-kun." Madara glided closer and Sasuke gripped his sword, the ball of his foot digging into the ground as he shifted his weight.

Seeing his change, Madara paused. "Relax, Sasuke-kun-" He lifted his arms slowly, opening his palms. "-I'm not here to hurt you. I've already told you-" He finished, dropping his hands and threading steel through his tone. "-If I'd wanted you dead, you'd already be so."

Sasuke did not answer him, nor did he loosen his hold on his sword or the bend of his knee.

"We both have similar goals, Sasuke-kun. If you wish to meet yours and see the added bonus of a Konoha ruled by the very clan it tried to eliminate, you must disguise your hostility. A snake in the open does not surprise."

"Get out of my house."

Madara saluted him lazily, the barest touch of two fingers to his temple. "Blood calls to blood, Sasuke-kun. I'll make sure to remember you when Konoha belongs to our clan." Turning, he slipped noiselessly through the living room of his apartment.

Sasuke watched warily as he paused, looked over his shoulder and-with a sickly affection-uttered "sweet dreams." The words still rang through the apartment, but Madara had spread across the black air into nothing.

* * *

Tsunade tapped the fingernails of one hand on her desk, the other was bent at the elbow propping her head. Her skin, where her knuckles were burrowed into the mound of her cheek, was stinging unpleasantly.

Before her sat a man with dull, brown hair and plain eyes-his voice was no more interesting than the common set of his face. She watched the flowers on his tie rise and fall with his chest, flicking her gaze back to his when he finally finished his preamble.

"It is my professional opinion that Uchiha-san is prepared to handle the psychological stress of active duty." He flipped a page from the file he had spread open on her desk. "My colleague surely reached the same conclusion. He is, of course, abnormal in several aspects, but he is stable."

"Then-" Tsunade tried, but she was cut off.

"I've conducted extensive tests, as extensive as his patience allowed, but they all point in the same direction. I would recommend close surveillance of his behavior while on the field-his nature is still quite volatile-and he must maintain regular therapy sessions to help him with his problems-"

"I see-"

"-And frequent evaluations are indispensable, but-"

Tsunade straightened her back and flattened her palm over her desk. "Takahashi-san-" She cut through his words loudly. "-is he fit for service or not?"

"Yes-" He said, somewhat shocked she'd interrupt him so clearly. "-but as I was saying-" He added reaching for his notes and spreading three pages before her rapidly as he pointed to a chart. "-the reasons are-"

"Takahashi-san, Shizune will assist you on your way out." Tsunade removed her glasses, carefully folding them before dropping them into a drawer. She looked up at Takahashi, as if she were surprised he was still there. "Thank you for your time. You may leave."

He stared, mouth somewhat agape, before he fumbled to his feet, flowered tie swinging over her desk as he hastily gathered his documents and stuffed them into a leather briefcase. Bowing stiffly, he murmured a short _'good day.'_ Shizune, waiting at the end of her office by the door, tilted her head as he passed. When his back was turned she sent Tsunade a sympathetic gaze.

With a sigh, Tsunade threw herself back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Sixty pages. That egotistical windbag had put together sixty pages-within four days-of Uchiha Sasuke's mental history and current condition. With a huff she reached for the copy of his report, flipping to the very end. _Fit for service._

Looking over the report's edge, Tsunade eyed the scroll sitting at the end of her desk.

"So?" Shizune asked from the doorway.

"So, what?" Tsunade said defensively, briefly glancing up at her.

"Is he in?"

Tsunade rubbed her temple, leaning heavily on the armrest of her seat. She focused on the scroll, gaze hard. The weight of the decision pressed down over her shoulders and she prayed she wasn't making a mistake. Reaching rapidly for the scroll, before she could regret it, she held it out to Shizune. "Add him to the list."

"Hai, Hokage-sama." Shizune, heels clacking, stepped quickly to grab the scroll. With her free hand, she placed the day's personal correspondence on Tsunade's desk. A blue folder peaked from between the large, white envelopes. "That-" Shizune explained. "-is the information for the funeral. Your speech is in there as well, you just need to read it and make your final changes."

"The autopsy?" Tsunade asked, pulling the folder from the pile.

"Positive for heart attack. Nothing suspicious was found."

Tsunade '_tsked_.'

"He was an old man, Hokage-sama. And he'd had his condition for years." Shizune added, looking at Tsunade as she scanned the autopsy, glasses firmly back in place.

"I suppose." The Hokage said by way of answer. When she didn't give further instruction, Shizune bowed and made her way out, closing the door softly behind her.

* * *

Sakura waited on his doorstep, watching the clouds roll by. There was a particularly big, grey mass off in the horizon pregnant with rain. The air around her was dead and still, thick with humidity. She moved further into the shade of his apartment's covered walkway, reaching for her bags. She hoped the milk didn't spoil. The crackle of chakra dancing along her sweaty skin made her glance up hopefully. _Finally_.

Sasuke stood three meters away, hands in his pocket, shoulders stiff, and gaze dark. She smiled boldly. "Hey."

He walked leisurely up his steps and past her, pulling his keys from his pocket. They jangled as he shoved them in the lock and turned the doorknob.

Sakura hurried to stand, taking up the bags she'd brought. She went to follow him, but his figure was swallowed behind the wood of the door that he slammed in her face.

Her mouth dropped open and she gaped wordlessly at the grain of the wood. _How dare he! How Dare He!_ She dropped the bags, face falling into a scowl as quickly as her purchases fell to the floor. She rammed her fist against the door in fast, harsh raps. "Sasuke! Open this door! Sasuke!" She yelled. She felt rage lick its way up her limbs and she shook with indignation. In a burst of anger, she slammed both palms against the wood, hearing a loud _bam_ ring up as the door rattled. She curled her fingers into fists, feeling the sting of her outburst tingle across her skin.

"Sasuke, you fucking asshole, open the fucking door! Sasuke!" She screamed, forcing the doorknob. Breathing heavily, she took a step back and inhaled slowly. She swiped her fingers through her hair and straightened her clothes, sweeping her gaze over the curious passersbys as her cheeks flared. Clearing her throat, she knocked on the door with some control. "Sasuke, I've been waiting on this doorstep for an hour. I could have just picked your stupid lock, but I wanted to respect the privacy your so keen on-and which, by the way-" She added, louder. "-you left a poignant reminder of over the skin of my forearm."

No answer.

Sakura closed her eyes and counted backwards from five, releasing a long, weary sigh. "Sasuke, let me in. I brought groceries. The milk will spoil.

"Sasuke, don't make me beg.

"Please-"

She looked up, startled as the door was pulled forcibly open, air sweeping by her as it was sucked into the apartment. Sasuke stood, glaring at her. Without a word, he left her standing on the step, door open, as he went into his living room.

Grabbing the bags from the floor, and struggling a little to kick some spilled cans back where they belonged, she stepped into the apartment. The mess of papers, books, and scrolls was somewhat more controlled, stacked into orderly piles against an empty wall. She placed the groceries over the counter and turned to see Sasuke sitting on his couch, reading. Silently, she unloaded the perishables, touching her palm to the carton of milk and finding it cold still. She tucked them into the fridge, forming semi-straight rows on the shelves, the way she remembered him liking them.

"I brought tomatoes." She said, gently dumping a bag of them into an empty bowl. "And sushi." She added, holding up the bento and staring at him with a weak smile. He didn't look up or say anything. Grudgingly, she finished unpacking in silence.

"Have you eaten?" She asked when she finished, standing warily in the kitchen. Briefly he glanced at her, then returned to his book.

"Fine" She muttered under her breath, moving to fall into an armchair. It became obvious to her, after several minutes, that he wouldn't be initiating their conversation. Slowly, deliberately, so as to give him time to object, she gripped the spine of his book lightly, curling her fingers over the edge and into his line of vision. She pushed the book down into his lap and held his gaze as he watched her.

"You gonna tell me what happened?"

He stared at her, then, closing his book, laid it flat on the table before him. "Are you going to leave yet?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Then no."

"'No' what?" She asked, but she received no answer.

"You don't have any right to be angry at me, you know." She said, voice carrying some bite.

He watched her passively.

"I'm not expecting an apology because, well…it's you. And that would be asking too much. But I'd like to know why you're acting on a new level of jerk."

Sasuke picked the remote from the floor, clicking on the TV. "I want you to get out of my apartment." He said as he flipped to the news.

"Sasuke, you're eyes are bloodshot, you've got bags down to your nose, your thinner than you've ever been before, and quite honestly, you look like shit."

He turned the volume up.

She broke her gaze to look at the screen, then set her eyes on him again. He felt her stare burn hotter by the second.

"You're not thirteen anymore, Sasuke. You don't do things like this anymore and just get away with them. You're old enough to handle your problems, however bad they may be."

"Kakashi already gave me the lecture, I don't need another." His words were short and sharp and his dark eyes held anger. "I had a bad week. I'm dealing with it." He said, throwing the remote aside as he stood to his full height. "Now get out."

Sakura rose to her feet, holding his glare with an equally embittered one of her own. "Throw the sushi out if you haven't eaten it by tomorrow and double-check the milk; It was in the heat for a while. I'll see you around." Turning on her heel, she marched out of his apartment.

He heard her mutter _"asshole_" before the door slammed shut behind her. The harsh crack of thunder exploded in the near distance, and the pelting pattern of a strong rain drummed against his window not long after.

* * *

Karin kneeled by the creek, cupping her hands to splash water over her face. She closed her eyes as her skin cooled and the thick desert dust washed down her chin. She sighed, shoulders sagging. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she stiffened. She threw herself to the ground, hands flying over her head as a kunai, with an exploding tag, swept by her hair. It landed in the center of the creek, and she didn't waste a moment in backpedaling. As soon as the tag kissed the water's surface, a resounding _boom_ bowled her over, the creek expanded high into a dramatic column of water that fell over her and the surrounding area.

Karin rolled behind a tree, turning over the different chakra sources around her. But as sharp as her talent was, she couldn't find her attackers. She sped into the canopy, hiding herself silently within the leafy branches. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears and she found it hard to focus over her panting breaths. She gasped and spun around sharply as a cut blossomed over her arm. Pressing herself tightly to the bark of the tree, she followed the gleam of a thin steel wire, tracing it back to a flash of brown eyes and the wicked curl of a triumphant grin. A soft tug pulled at her ankle teasingly and she didn't have time to react before a sharper, stronger pull yanked her clear off her perch. She yelled, flaying her arms as she broke through the canopy, hitting herself against thick and thin branches alike. She landed harshly against a sturdy limb, loosing her breath when she slammed into the wood and then tumbled to the ground. She arched her back, mouth wide as she gasped in pain, eyes screwed shut.

"Lookie here. I caught me a mermaid."

Karin looked up at the blurry shape of a tall man looming overhead. Wrapped around his wrist and held between his thumb and four fisted fingers, was a steel wire. He pulled his hand up playfully and her ankle followed. She bit down on the urge to scream as pain flared up to her hip. A second face appeared above her and she flicked her gaze to him. Their dark cloaks were peppered with red, billowing clouds.

The shorter of the two squatted down beside her. He tilted his head, regarding her curiously, as his long, black hair fell over his shoulders. "Where's the scroll, sweetheart?"

She closed her mouth tightly.

He smiled and looked up at his partner. "We've got a quiet one."

Karin fisted her fingers into the ground beneath her.

"It's always the quiet ones." His partner replied.

She threw the pebbly dirt at them, grabbing the cloak of the tallest one and sending him careening into the chest of the second man. Snatching a kunai from her back, she cut the wire over her ankle and formed the seals that would take her miles away.

She fell over a rotting log as she landed, scratching her palms against the bark. Heaving, she let her forehead touch the ground. The pleasant smell of damp earth contrasted severely with the rush of her blood. Shakily pushing herself to her knees, she looked around her. Tall trees with lichen and moss clinging to their bark, dark, brown dirt rolling over itself in barely there swells. Her camp must be nearby. With jerky movements, she stood, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Gripping her thigh, she applied pressure and quickly dropped her hand when the pain tripled. Keeping her weight off her left foot, she took a deep breath and used a second transportation jutsu. Her heartbeat, the rapid drumming of prey, urged her to keep moving.

When she landed again, she fell heavily to the mossy ground. She cried out when her leg was jarred, closing her eyes tightly against the dizziness sweeping through her.

A twig snapped ahead of her and as the voice reached her, she felt bile rise up in her throat.

"Always the quiet ones."

She lifted her head slowly, meeting the placid gaze of the man with the long hair. He was squatting again, keeping himself level with her.

His eyes, a deeper shade of brown than his companion, grew series. "Where's the scroll?"

When she didn't speak, he shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart-" His voice deepened as he added: "-but I will. Where's the scroll?"

A second set of footsteps grew at her back. Still, she didn't speak.

The man brought his hand up to her jaw, tracing her skin gently. _That's it_. She thought, as he neared her mouth.

"It would be a shame, to mar that pretty face. Give me the scroll, and you'll get a quick end. Don't and…well." He let the thoughts drift. With his thumb, he pulled the slightest bit on her lower lip, and suddenly, her cheeks rose with her grin.

"You shouldn't have done that." She whispered over his hand. He only had a second to look confused before she sunk her teeth into the flesh of his palm, gripping his wrist tightly. She sucked up his chakra greedily.

With an angry curse, he backhanded her solidly while his partner tore her away, squeezing her waist.

Holding his hand close to his chest, the man examined her bite. Sharply turning cold, narrowed eyes on her, he let his hand drop to the side, one tiny trail of blood dripped from his alabaster skin to the ground. "You shouldn't have done that, sweetheart."

Karin struggled wildly against his partner as he approached, and with each thrash, she felt herself grow stronger. She rammed her heel into the man's crotch, and he released her immediately with a loud grunt.

Before the other one could wrap his slimy hands around her, she disappeared in a trail of smoke, stumbling over the ground as she landed. Panting hard, she leaned against a boulder. The roar of a waterfall deafened her. Temple pressed against the warm rock of the boulder, she turned marginally to see a waterfall at her side. This must be where the creek sprung from. She didn't have much time to contemplate the thought before they appeared again, stepping from the smoke of their transportation jutsu like demons sprouting from mist.

"I thought she could only give chakra." One of them commented calmly.

"New tricks." His partner replied, a wide grin splitting his face when they caught sight of her.

She made a desperate noise deep in her throat and limped back as they approached. Her bad leg hit the very edge of the cliff, sending pebbles clattering down the ravine.

She switched her eyes nervously between them, pulling a kunai from her holster. The taller of the two flicked his wrist in a blinding motion and Karen felt the bite of steel dig into her forearm. He tugged sharply on the wire and her arm flew outwards as she lost her balance and hung precariously between land and air, held only by that thin thread of steel. The shinobi pulled the line slowly towards him, a lazy smile curling his lips. Rapidly, she pitched all her weight forward, swinging her kunai straight at his neck. He ducked instinctively and she was tackled to the ground by his partner. Together, they rolled towards the ravine. The dirt around them groaned under their weight. The man above her turned his murderous gaze to the cliff, watching with widening eyes as it crumbled around them. He pushed off her as she scrambled away, but the land slid from under her with every move. Karin screamed as she fell, seeking purchase in the failing cliff and finding none. The wire wrapped over her arm pulled taught, yanking her to a standstill. She cried out as the steel peeled into her flesh, sliding up her arm and catching between her thumb and wrist. She swung her other hand up, wrapping it around the cable to lessen her weight. She tried to reach the cliff face or find a foothold, but the distance was impossible. Screaming, she dug her hand into the wire, not caring as the blood trickled down her palm. _Get it off!_ _Get it off!_

Pebbles fell over her and she tilted her head up, tears streaming down her face.

"Where's the scroll?" The man asked.

"Fuck you." She whispered.

"Tell me, and I'll help you." He offered.

"Fuck you!" She yelled.

His mouth tightened. He made a sign with his hand and she felt the wire tug her upwards, cutting deep into her wrist. Karin screamed.

"Where is it?"

Her silence made him kneel to the edge. He spun a kunai from the finger of his hand. She looked at it with wide eyes.

"Shame, sweetheart."

And then he cut the wire.

* * *

"You're putting Sasuke on the mission?" Sakura asked pointedly.

Tsunade spared her a glance, reading over Mitokado's autopsy-again. She kept coming back to it, flipping between his medical history and the notes made by the mortician, neatly filed in black ink beside the generic diagram of a human body.

"He's too-" Sakura bit back the word 'unbalanced,' searching for something more generous. "-too overwhelmed by the death of his brother-"

"Murder." Tsunade cut her off automatically.

Pursing her mouth, Sakura conceded: "-by the murder of his brother to be handling something like this. He needs to come to terms with his family's death and the blood on his hands, not add more."

Tsunade dropped the file with a heavy sigh, plucking her glasses from the bridge of her nose. She rubbed her eyelids with the pads of her fingers to clear away the wear of long hours, then pulled open the center drawer of her desk. From within it, she took a manila file heavy with haphazardly ordered documents that stuck out in every which way. She tossed the folder close to Sakura. It slid to a standstill inches from her.

Sakura alternated her green gaze between it and her. The thin, pink line of her eyebrow rose high on her brow.

"That-" Tsunade explained. "-is the council's gathered signatures authorizing Konoha's entry into war. There's also various key reports of ally and enemy activity, among other things."

With dainty fingers, Sakura flipped the thick cover aside.

"There's a roster, as well-" Tsunade continued. "-of all active, suspended, and retired shinobi, including those deployed."

"You keep this in your desk…overnight?" Sakura asked skeptically, threading light sarcasm into her tone.

"No. That's not the point-" Tsunade waved her hand dismissively. "-Konoha has over 90 percent of its shinobi out on the field. I'm days away from drafting available inactive shinobi and deploying them. I need every able man and woman in arms, Sakura, regardless of their problems."

Sweeping through the documents, Sakura said: "So, despite severe trauma, it's all hands on board?"

Narrowing her eyes, Tsunade brought her hands to her lap. "Don't take that tone with me, Sakura. If you ever sit in this chair, we can discuss accountability, until then consider the demands of my job." She plucked the file from Sakura, tucking it hastily away. "The mission will be much safer with a sharingan user. Kakashi is away on assignment and I have no other alternatives. Uchiha Sasuke, whatever his current health, is a capable and competent shinobi. He'll carry out his task to perfection, as he always does.

Sakura bit her lip. "Hai, shishou."

Eyes softening, Tsunade sighed. "I'm trusting you to keep him in line. Between you, Hinata, and Shikamaru, you should be able to handle him. He'll also be kept in the dark about sensitive information.

"Some action will probably do him more good than harm, Sakura." Tsunade concluded. "Keeping him busy is better than leaving him idle."

Nodding, Sakura unfurled the mission scroll in her lap. "What's in Rain?" She asked, rapidly scanning the document.

"Kobayashi. He's the nobleman Hyuga was paying to eliminate his…problem."

"What's he to us?"

"He's a key player in Rain's access to _guns_." Tsunade stumbled over the strange word, curving her lips distastefully over it. "You'll gain entry-" She spoke on. "-into his manor as a servant and gather any and all information you can. It's an in and out mission, Sakura. You infiltrate, gather, and retreat. Hinata will track you with the bykagun while you're inside the manor, and Sasuke will pave your exit with the sharingan."

Sakura swiped her thumb over the characters inked on the scroll, absorbing Tsunade's words and supplementing them with the report's detailed brief.

"I want this done cleanly and quickly. You have two weeks. If you haven't gotten the information by then, then you come home regardless. Clear?"

"Crystal." Sakura said, meeting Tsunade's series gaze.

"Good." Tsunade pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and reached for Mitokado's autopsy. "What do you make of this?" She asked, turning the report upside down, so that it faced Sakura right side up.

"Who's the stiff?" Sakura asked, dragging the file towards her with her fingers.

"Your former councilman."

Sakura looked up quickly. "Oh."

Tsunade watched her closely as she read in silence, the sound of her fingers tapping against wood loud in the space.

"I don't see anything wrong with it. He had the condition and he died from it. The signs are all there, it's textbook perfect."

Tsunade smiled grimly. "Exactly. Now, look at his bloodwork."

"This is all preliminary-" Sakura warned as Tsunade headed her off.

"I know-" Tsunade said, waving her hand. "but it's promising. Toxicology will get me a proper report within the month."

Sighing, Sakura flicked the file, bringing it closer. "His adrenaline and BNP levels were high-" Frowning, Sakura amended. "-very high." She glanced up at Tsunade's smug grin. With a soft 'hm,' Sakura closed the folder. "I don't see the problem. He had heart failure and was having a heart attack. BNP would have been through the roof. The fear and stress accounts easily for the adrenaline."

Tsunade rested her chin over her hand casually. Brow raised, she drawled, "In those concentrations?"

"Well-" Sakura stalled, pursing her lips. Sighing again, she mimicked Tsunade's pose. "It's not enough to cry foul play, Shishou."

Tsunade's lips swept upwards in a determined smile. "Not yet."

* * *

**Terms:**

**BNP: **Short for B-Type Natriuretic Peptide (also called Brain Natriuretic Peptide). This is a protein secreted to ease strain on the heart. Levels may rise during and after a heart attack.

**Note:** Any medical conclusions reached by the characters in this story are based upon speculation and brief internet research. Though some terms and conditions may be based on reality, this is a work of fiction and should not be taken as fact.


	18. Day 562: The Kamon, Part I

The **Author's Note** has been placed at the end of the chapter.

As always, dedicated to the reviewers, whose reviews are wonderful and encouraging!

* * *

**Chapter 14: Day 562 **

**The Kamon, Part I**

They waited on a lawn just off the kitchens, with a strong sun beating down over them as grey smoke poured from two, tall chimneys, perfuming the air with the fresh smell of roasting meat. The coarse rope wound tightly around her wrists chaffed Sakura's skin, and she wiggled her hands, fidgeting to adjust them.

Sasuke's arm pressed her shoulder firmly. "Stop moving." He whispered, leaning into her, dropping the words by her ear.

_Easy for you to say_, she thought bitterly, staring unfailingly at the sparse, brown grass below her feet. Her head remained bowed demurely, even as the footsteps of Kobayashi's overseer rang from the flagstone kitchen path. The three others, a man and two girls, plopped quickly to their knees, touching their foreheads to the grass in a bow.

She faltered and felt Sasuke's palm dig roughly into her shoulder as he pushed her to the ground with a grunt. She grit her teeth when he tugged on the short rope tied to her wrists.

Two leather flats, wrapped around small, fat feet, appeared at the edge of her vision.

"Why is this one tied?" The woman's voice was low and accented.

Sasuke spoke nonchalantly from above her. "She's indentured."

The flats angled, ready to walk away. "I don't want slaves here, of any kind-" From the edge of her vision, Sakura saw the woman move down the line to the others."-They're more trouble than they're worth." She finished as she evaluated them.

"She's a healer." Sasuke added in the same, disinterested tone, as if selling his merchandise was the last of his priorities.

The woman made a noise of interest, her flats reappearing before her line of sight. Her hand, capped with calluses, tilted her chin up firmly. Two blue eyes, set into a face with blotchy, pink skin, a wide jaw, and thin, maple hair, moved attentively over her. The woman pulled her lips back with her thumb, examining her teeth. Sakura managed to keep her chakra from spiking and her mouth from falling into a snarl. "She seems healthy." The woman observed, scrunching her fingers in Sakura's hair. "It's been a while since we've had a healer in the house." She paused, eyes still staring at Sakura as she considered. "How much is her debt?" She dropped Sakura's chin, straightening to speak with Sasuke.

"Twenty-eight thousand gold."

A low grunt fell from the woman's throat. "What did a country doctor like you-" She said, looking down at Sakura with her hands anchored on either side of her ample hips. "-do to rack up such a debt?"

Sakura did not tilt her head towards her, nor did she answer.

"Hm." The woman scoffed, glancing away. "What can she do?" She demanded of Sasuke.

Pulling a knife from his belt, Sasuke gripped her wrists, cutting away her bonds. He snatched her arm, pulling it roughly in front of her and turned it palm-side up. A tiny, three-leaved clover, trapped within a perfect circle, was tattooed into her skin.

"Well, well, well." The woman said, brow rising with admiration. "The seal of the Earth Temple."

"That's where she trained." Sasuke finished for her. "A full, healer's education." He added flatly, dropping her hand and coiling the rope after having replaced the knife within his belt.

Bending at the waist, the woman gripped her chin again. "I'll tell you what, girl, healers get paid seven thousand gold ryo annually here. You work with us for four or five years-with your room and board included-and then you're free to do as you please. It's a better deal than most people he'll-" She pointed at Sasuke with her jaw. "-take you to will offer."

Sakura bit her lip, pretending to deliberate, mulling over the dangerous choice of selling herself to this woman's employer for half a decade or casting her fate with the next house _Ken_ dragged her to. Finally, when the woman seemed ready to dismiss her, she looked up at her quickly. "I accept."

"Good." The woman nodded. Moving to the man still waiting on his knees, she said. "You'll get two hundred gold ryo for working the fields this harvest, room and board aside. If you work well, you'll keep your job. Understood?"

"Hai." The man stuttered, bowing again.

"I'll take them both. The girls can go, I don't need more maids." The woman said, straightening her skirts. "Bring the healer tomorrow and you'll receive your payment."

Sasuke tilted his head. Taking Sakura's shirt collar into his fist, he dragged her to her feet, then, wrapping her brown, braided hair over his wrist, pushed her into a fast walk. After they'd slipped into their inn on the shady side of town, he unwound her hair and walked to sit on the window ledge.

Sakura shot him a dirty look, rubbing her fingers in her scalp. "You didn't have to pull my hair."

"It needed to look convincing."

Sakura huffed, moving into the bathroom. "I swear you enjoyed it." She muttered lowly as she ran a wet cloth over her face at the mirror-less sink, getting rid of the dirt she'd smudged on. "Where'd you get the extras?" She asked, turning the rusty, grimy tap and letting the water run as she waited for it to clear.

"Shikamaru spread the word about a debtor passing through town. They met with me at the inn's bar and asked me what houses my employer had a contract with."

"Is your employer the same guy I owe twenty-eight gold to-" She splashed cool water onto her face, passing her hand over her neck with a relieved sigh. "-or do I need to memorize another name?"

"Giska." His voice, already soft, was hard to catch over the water. She turned the tap off.

"So that's the bastard that helped my other bastard get a hold of me after I ran for Rock." There was no response from Sasuke, not the she expected any. Reaching for a towel, she grimaced at its yellowed complexion. Dropping it, she gripped her shirt, swiping it over her face. Stepping into the room, Sakura saw Sasuke, eyes closed, leaning into the window. Over the single bed, she spotted a striped blanket and taking it, she threw it softly over him. His eyes snapped open immediately, and he pulled the blanket away, letting it drop to his feet. "Don't bother."

Sakura bit back a retort. Turning, she found the only battered chair in the room, leaning back into it as she sat. "Did you send Shika an update?"

"Hn."

Gaze set on the ceiling, she traced the ugly water stains blooming over the plaster. The cold of the room, aggravated by the cool of Rain's watery weather, clung to her skin. "How's it feel?" She asked lazily.

There was a beat of silence before Sasuke finally spoke. "What?"

"To be back, doing missions. How's it feel?"

After her words went unanswered for too long, she looked over at him. He hadn't moved the slightest bit, his gaze steady on the scene outside the window, blanket still fallen at his feet.

"Have you been having nightmares again?" After considering the answer to that, she added hastily. "Worse ones, I mean."

Silence.

She sighed, blowing at her bangs. "Kakashi and me are worried about you." She shot him a glance, then returned to watching the ceiling.

"I liked having someone to talk to, someone who knew Naruto as closely as you did. I thought we were finally getting to be friends.

"It seemed to me like you wanted that too. Was I wrong?" She asked, looking at him searchingly. But he didn't meet her eyes and only the apartment's chilled air answered her.

"Fine. Don't talk." She glared at the ceiling "But, I will. So don't expect me to shut up."

Placing her hands over each wooden armrest, she licked her lips. "That night, outside the club, and the night of the burning, when we talked, that was nice. That's the way it's supposed to be between friends, or comrades, or war buddies. Whatever you want to call it."

Sakura closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. "In your own way, miniscule as it might have been-" she included stealthily. "-you helped me remember things about Naruto, things that helped me put him to rest."

"I know you can't do that with your family because it's not the same, but you helped me, in your own way, to move on. And I want to do that too. I wish Naruto was here for you, because he knew you best. But he's not." She said with firm resolution, convincing herself as well. "You're stuck with me and Kakashi. But I don't think that's so bad. We've known you for years, Sasuke, and we chased after you for years when you left." She picked the chipped paint of her armrest. "You don't have to face your ghosts alone. You have people willing to stand at your side. Not everyone can say that." She finished, thinking about Yukari who had no family or close friends that she knew of, who had to rely on the kindness of people that were special to her husband rather than her, all while she fought her own nightmares and raised their baby. Opening her eyes, Sakura let her head roll to the side. Sasuke's black eyes were watching her, but when she met his stare he turned to the window.

"I just thought you should know that, in case you didn't already." Sakura added, voice low and embarrassed as her words caught up to her. Standing slowly, she cleared her throat and reordered her shirt before moving away to the bed. "Wake me for dinner." She said unnecessarily, tucking her face into the pillow and turning on her side, away from Sasuke. Sometime after she'd finally settled into sleep, a striped blanket fell over her silently.

* * *

"You remember your symbol?" Shikamaru drawled, with some nervousness to his normally dragging voice.

"Yes." Sakura sighed. "Three shakes of a white sheet by the launder's at morning, noon, or sunset, always facing north. I'm not a genin, Shikamaru." Sakura slipped her cheap moonstone earrings on, pressing the panic button behind the left stud.

Hinata nodded her head, looking at the receiver she held in her hand as it flashed red in time to a high, wailing alarm.

"And if you need to get out?"

Glaring at Shikamaru, Sakura pointed obviously to Hinata's receiver. "Is the blaring noise not telling enough?"

Shikamaru wiggled his cigarette in his mouth. "Don't get snappy; I'm only following protocol. You've got a week from today."

Nodding, Sasuke and her headed towards Kobayashi's manor on the outskirts of town. They passed the high, stone wall that sealed off the compound, taking careful notice of the many shinobi standing along its perimeter. At the gate, two men with high levels of chakra checked Sasuke's license and patted them both down for weapons. They sent them off with a third guard, who left them in the courtyard where a young woman waited, clutching a heavy pouch to her chest. "Are you Ken-san, Giska's debtor?" She asked in a soft, jumpy voice, glancing quickly at Sakura.

"Yes." Sasuke answered, holding onto Sakura's bound hands.

"And she is the healer from the Earth Temple?"

"Yes."

Quickly, the girl thrust the pouch out before her. "This is your payment. Twen-Twen-" She stumbled over the amount, as if the quantity was unimaginable to her. "-Twenty-eight thousand _gold_ ryo."

Taking the pouch in his free hand, Sasuke released Sakura. He shook the purse, testing its weight, then pulled back the leather ties and removed one gold piece. Scratching it with his nail, he dropped it back and retied the purse. With a brusque nod, he turned away from the girl, swept a heavy glance her way, and left the way they came.

Swallowing, Sakura looked at the girl, who was watching her.

"Please come this way." She said politely.

Sakura trailed after her, watching her grey yukata drag over the ground, muddying the dirty hem. They walked through the heat of the kitchen entrance, where two large fires flared brightly. The men working them, watched them curiously as they passed, the other kitchen workers doing the same. _"That's the healer?"_ Sakura heard before the thick, canvas curtain shielding a second entrance dropped behind her. The girl pointed to three wooden tables. "This is the servant's dinning quarters. You'll come here for breakfast and supper-if you like." She finished shyly.

The hallways she led her through were cramped and dark, with guards posted at their exists. "These are the servant's passageways." She explained, barely noticing the observant gaze of the guards. "Please use these always, unless you're called into the house." She turned her head to catch Sakura's nod, then, satisfied, continued walking, turning onto a passage along which entryways, covered in the same canvas as the kitchen, lined the walls. "These are the maid's quarters. And this-" She said with her eyes averted, pausing before one entrance. "-is your room."

Sakura stood by the canvas the girl held aside, peeking inside. There was a pallet with a thick blanket pushed against a corner of the tiny space, with a second pallet adjacent. Between them rested a stool and washbasin. Tiny, wooden knickknacks were lined neatly at the side of one pallet. "This is also my room." The girl said quietly. With a thin hand, she pointed to a wooden door at the end of the hall. "That's the bathroom. We share it here with the other women."

"What's your name?" Sakura turned to regard her.

As if she'd never been asked the question before, her brown eyes grew wide and she stood silent. "A-Ami." She stuttered, looking away.

"I'm Imari. It's nice to meet you, Ami-san." Sakura tilted her head.

"Oh." The girl gaped. "Tha-thank you." Bowing, she fidgeted with her blond hair. "Um, Hayashi-san would like to speak to you. Please follow me."

Hayashi was the surname of the woman Sakura had met the day before. She was bent over a garden bed, examining the health of the blooming chrysanthemums. Pulling a weed, she held it up to the gardener beside her and said something to him. The man, wearing a wide, straw hat, bowed his head.

Standing to her feet with some effort, she dusted the dirt from her knees and put a hand to her back, scrunching her face as she straightened. "Ami-" She greeted, setting her blue eyes on them. "-And our new healer. What's your name, girl?"

"Imari."

Hayashi approached her, reaching to cup her jaw, eyes appraising. "You're a dainty thing. You just might make it into the main house." Releasing her hold, she stood back and her gaze turned serious. "Your duties here will be vast. Do not expect to sit idly when you're not making remedies. For the most part, you will be treated as any other maid, and your duties will be the same. In the mornings, I will tell you where you are needed. If your healing services are required, you will be called aside. Loyalty, respect, dedication, and obedience. These will be your gods while you live here, follow them, and you'll avoid repercussion. Understood?"

"Perfectly, Hayashi-san."

The woman stood quiet, seeming to wait for further action from her. When Sakura remained unmoving, the woman added: "I will not require your deference to me, for your profession places us on similar enough footing. However, you will bow to everyone above me in this household. Understood?"

Sakura inclined her head politely. "Perfectly, Hayashi-san."

"Good." Hayashi turned her back on them, walking efficiently towards the kitchens. "You will work alongside me today." She said, without turning her head.

Sakura looked at the sun in the sky, still close to the horizon and gently warming the morning. It would be a long time before nightfall.

* * *

Kobayashi's main house was wrapped in shoji screens that brightened the interior with softly diffused sunlight. Sakura walked stiffly behind Ami. Her new yukata, made from scratchy grey cloth, stilted the length of her steps. From her hand dangled a bucket, water sloshing and dampening the rag draped over its rim.

"We can start here." Ami said, setting her bucket gently over the wooden floor before securing her long sleeves with a strip of cloth. Doing the same, Sakura knelt at her side. Dipping her hand into the cold water, she pulled out a scrubbing brush made from soft bristles.

With both hands, Ami began scrubbing. "The floors were already dusted. So we should be done quickly."

In the high polish of the wood, Sakura could see her reflection, from her brown hair tucked into an orderly coif, to the near-indistinguishable gleam of her moonstone earrings.

"May I ask where you are from, Imari-san?" Ami's voice was shy and tentative.

Sakura looked up at Ami, cleaning diligently with her eyes firmly set on her task.

"My family were farmers from Rain. During my eighth summer, my father secured me a place in the Earth Temple and I was shipped away."

Ami glanced at her quickly. "You were very young to leave home." Her eyes dropped demurely to Sakura's collar.

"I was." Sakura lied, feeling the sweat build under her clothes as she scrubbed. "I loved my mother dearly. For a long time, I resented my father."

The sound of their work rang out through the hall.

"But-" Sakura added, vigorously rubbing a stain. "-I owe him my education."

"I wish I had been tutored." Ami's words fell softly, her face turned away from Sakura's.

Sakura watched the tense line of Ami's jaw. "Did you learn to read?"

Ami's hands, curled over her brush, paused abruptly. "No." She said flatly.

"You can still learn." Sakura offered lamely, feeling pity for this girl who had so much promise but none of the opportunity. "When I ran from Rain to escape my debt I passed for the first time through huge villages. They teach all their people to read."

Ami stared at her openly for the first time, a gleam entering her eye as she imagined such a world.

Smiling at her reaction, Sakura moved forward on her knees to a new patch of floor. "If you were to go there-" She encouraged. "-you could learn."

There was no response from her, but Sakura suspected she had tucked the information away for consideration. Up ahead, a screen slid open and a woman in an extravagantly patterned kimono stepped out with her servant. Her black hair was coiled high on her head, with pearls, draped from lacquered combs, falling into her face.

Ami gasped, and Sakura heard her scramble to the very edge of the wall. She followed suit, touching her head to the ground as Ami had. From the fringe of her bangs, she saw the woman's geta glide by them, straight through their wet floor. When the screen shut noiselessly behind her, Sakura straightened. But Ami took several seconds before she unfurled from her bow. Her face was paler and she watched the screen warily before picking up her brush.

"Who was she?" Sakura asked, scrubbing the marks the geta had left behind.

Ami looked over her shoulder at the closed screen, then, leaning close to Sakura, whispered in a feathery voice. "That was Hisoka-sama. She is the lady of the house."

Her finery, from the finely woven kimono to her jewelry, was unheard off for an ordinary afternoon. "Is she attending an event?"

Shaking her head, Ami dropped her voice further. "Hisoka-sama…appreciates-" she settled on the word. "-elegance."

_More like flair._ "Where is she going?"

Taking her bucket, Ami stood to walk further down the hall. "To perform the tea ceremony for Kobayashi-sama. They do so weekly, on the same day and at the same time."

"Does she also practice ikebana?" Sakura managed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she dipped her brush in her bucket, sloshing it in the soapy water.

"Of course." Ami replied, not at all aware of her jeer.

"Is she Kobayashi-sama's honored wife?" She asked, though she knew Kobayashi had no wife.

"Oh." Ami dropped her brush with a splash into her bucket. Fishing it out slowly, she whispered: "Um, no. Kobayashi-sama is not married." She dropped her voice into another whisper. "She is his…companion. But that is not something that is discussed."

Nodding, Sakura grabbed her rag, using the small ball of wax sewn at one end, to polish a dull plank. "He must be a busy man, to only meet with her once a week."

"He is. But Kobayashi-sama does not neglect Hisoka-sama. He works from his office and he can see her frequently." Standing, Ami moved to slide a screen open. She dumped her water into some bushes outside the engawa.

Sakura fell into step beside her, tossing her bucketful in the same place. "Is his office large?" Sakura asked, prying her way slowly through Ami's gossip.

Ami glanced at her with scrunched eyebrows. "Uh, yes. Why-" She faltered. "-Why do you ask, Imari-san?"

Sighing dramatically, Sakura smiled. "I'm just wondering how much more we'll have to clean."

Ami's smile was small and shy, but sincere. "It is a _grand_ office." She held her arms wide apart in the first show of play Sakura had seen from her. "All with wooden floors. But-" She continued cheerfully, walking quickly through a deserted garden path. "We do not have to clean there today."

Raising her brow, Sakura asked curiously. "And where _do_ we have to clean today?"

"The rest of the hallways. But first-" Ami held her bucket up to her chest. "We must gather clean water-" Hastily, after hearing her familiarity, she ducked her head, adding: "-if it pleases you, Imari-san."

Sakura laughed. "Ami-san, very little work pleases me."

Ami clasped her bucket tighter, watching her feet. "I know it is not the most pleasant thing, to work as a maid, but it is a decent, honest job, Imari-san, and I am grateful for it."

Her voice was series, and Sakura wondered if she'd insulted her. Abashed, she nodded. "I am glad I chose to stay here. I think I will be well-treated." She tried to amend.

Smiling minutely, Ami told her she would. "Kobayashi-sama and Hayashi-sama have always been very fair to me. I think, if I may be so bold-" She interspersed quickly. "-that you will not be unhappy here.

"Oh," She exclaimed, coming to a stop as the blue-tiled roof of a separate building peeked through the branches of two willows. "That is Kobayashi-sama's office. It is a vary large room. Can you tell, from the roof?"

Sakura's gaze settled intensely on the structure, memorizing the landmarks around it, the covered walkway between it and the main house and its distance from the path she was on. "Yes." She smiled falsely, boxing hands around the roof. "Very grand."

"It is a different building from the main house, with thick doors and glass windows-like those in Cloud. And-" Ami continued with buoyancy. "-There are shelves filled with books and scrolls inside." She sighed, eyes dimming. "Unfortunately, we are not allowed into it without Hayashi-san."

* * *

**Terms: **

Kamon: a family crest

**Author's Note:**

To address a few questions and comments:

1. We're getting closer to some Sasuke and Sakura interaction. Hopefully, within the next few chapters things can build between them. But it will be subtle for some time.

2. As to Tenten and Neji, I don't foresee much more angst between them. It's time for them to move on (**Spoiler alert!:** In previous author's notes it's been mentioned that they are unlikely to end up together. That still holds true).

3. There will be some action next chapter. So things will pick up.

4. It was brought to my attention that Ami accidentally uses Sakura's name in one section. That error has been corrected.


	19. Day 562: The Kamon, Part II

**Author's Note:**

Many thanks for the great reviews! They lend inspiration and encouragement!

To Answer Some Reviewer's Questions:

1) Akira, Captain Hirosaki's husband, is listed as deceased in chapter 2. Akira, Sakura's ANBU captain, passes away by chapter 5. So, two different Akira's (there's a conversation between Sakura and Hirosaki about them having the same name in chapter 9).

2) As to the debt idea with debtors, their employers, and their prominent contacts (etc.), the idea spring boarded from historical systems of indentured servitude, although, serious liberties were taken with it.

3) About Yoshida (**small, possible spoiler alert up ahead**), remember he was supposed to disappear after his arrest, for his family's safety…so he may or may not really be dead.

**Remember:** As stated before, it is not actually "Day 562" in this part of chapter 14; time has passed.

Dedicated, as always, to the reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Day 562 **

**The Kamon, Part II**

Sakura caught her first glance of Kobayashi on her third afternoon within the manor. He strolled from his office casually, with the gait of a relaxed general, his wide, white hakama trailing his feet. A guard, previously stationed outside, followed him and his companion closely.

"Good afternoon, Kobayashi-sama." Hayashi said, bent into a deep bow.

Kobayashi's low voice, gentled with ease, returned her greeting as he walked by. "Hayashi."

Sakura saw his head of cropped ebony hair incline the tiniest bit. On the back of his navy haori, placed below his neck, was a white, ten-petaled chrysanthemum. His companion turned marginally towards them and Sakura saw the shocking pearly gleam of his pupils. The same color most Hyuga inherited. She caught her breath, focusing wide eyes on the floor. Hyuga-sama's son was working with him.

When both figures had slipped behind a bend in the walkway, and Sakura had stored away her discovery, Hayashi straightened, walking purposefully to the beautifully carved doors of the office. Pulling a key from the chain around her neck, Hayashi unlocked them, moving into the space without a look back to her.

Sakura fell into step behind her, catching the chrysanthemums carved prominently into the doors, stylized into the Kobayashi's crest. "They have a handsome kamon." She said conversationally, setting her bucket down while she tried to center herself.

Hayashi only glanced at her. Tucking her key down the front of her brown dress, Hayashi pointed at the broad, patterned rug under Kobayashi's low desk. "That is older than you'll ever live to be. It does not like water." Her blue eyes settled on Sakura's, mouth pulled into a thin, pink line. "Understood?"

"Perfectly."

"Good." Hayashi gathered her skirts up in her hands as she kneeled by the rug. Tugging on an edge, she drew the corner up and in. "You will do the same to the other sides and scrub beneath them."

Sakura thought about the dirt and grime of several decades hiding beneath the monstrous family heirloom. But she did not comment on it, only nodded.

As Hayashi walked around the space, pulling back curtains, or switching on lights, Sakura dropped slowly to her knees to begin scrubbing. She heard the last of the curtain rings screech to a halt, and she felt Hayashi's gaze steadily mark her back and with each moment that it remained, she grew edgier. The clock on Kobayashi's desk measured the passing seconds, _tick tock tick tock._ Each cut like a red slash over a calendar. Rubbing harshly at the wood, she peeked at Hayashi from her peripheral. She only had four days left.

She had to get that infernally bossy woman out of the office.

The scrollwork lines woven over the rug called out to her. She stared at them, seeing the traces of raw silk threaded between the fine, worn wool. Biting her lip, Sakura angled her hip, aligned her ankle, feeling it just brush her bucket, and turned naively. The wooden bucket tipped over the rug, water sliding over it and into the ancient silk and wool. With a cry, Sakura threw herself at the bucket, grasping the handle and turning it upright.

"Foolish girl!" Hayashi yelled, running to her side. "Forgive me, Hayashi-san-" She gushed, mopping up the water with her yukata. "I'm so sorry." She kept repeating.

Hayashi had pulled off her apron, dropping it by Sakura's side. "Keep drying if you value your life, girl." She threatened, rushing out the doors. Sakura pressed the apron into the rug, waiting as her footsteps grew fainter, until she couldn't hear them anymore over the flagstone walkway.

Standing rapidly, she hurried to Kobayashi's desk. Flicking her palms up and down her yukata to dry them, she pulled open a drawer. It was meticulously organized, with a vessel of black ink, several flamboyant quills, two silver fountain pens, four fine-haired brushes, and a whetstone with three ceramic containers. She shut it carefully, glancing up at the empty walkway. The second drawer had an assortment of thick, creamy papers, all embossed or stamped with a ten-petaled chrysanthemum. Prying the final drawer open, Sakura desperately rummaged through receipts. Her fingers brushed a leather binding and, grasping its edge, she took a hold of a ledger. Her heart was pounding through her chest as she stole another nervous glance with wide eyes at the door. Flipping through the pages, she scanned the tiny characters that marked Kobayashi's business transactions. There were dozens of exchanges between Rock and Rain, shipments listing ten, fifteen, twenty boxes of _pottery_ at ridiculous prices. Between them, the Hyuga name was listed beside orders for _services rendered_. Sweat trickled down the line of her back. This had to be it. Footsteps echoed from the walkway and Sakura scrambled to reorder the ledger under its receipts. She swallowed dryly, eyes practically unmoving as she watched the long line of flagstone and blue columns, fearing the turn she knew Hayashi would take at any moment. She closed the drawer and paused, catching the crinkled form of a white receipt abandoned near the ground. Diving for it, Sakura crumbled it into her fist falling to her knees with barely contained pants as she stuffed it into the collar of her yukata.

When Hayashi stepped through the double doors, Sakura was breathing quickly, sweating, and obviously flustered. But why shouldn't she be, when she'd spilled a bucket of dirty, soapy water over a treasured heirloom.

"Go back to the kitchens. I'll finish this." She said, spreading thick, cotton wads under and over the rug.

Bowing, Sakura left the office, heart still beating between her ribs.

* * *

The receipt that could have cost her her life was for an order of rice. No doubt something for the house accounts. Nearly killed over rice. Breaking it into tiny pieces, Sakura washed it in the sink of the minuscule bathroom she shared with eight other women. Crushing it with her fingers, she watched the ink fall garishly onto the white enamel, painting black tear tracks over the sink's face. When all she had left was a wad of pulp, she threw it into the toilet, flushing.

Two hesitant knocks hurried her along. "Imari-san." Ami called shyly. "Hayashi-san says not to come to breakfast. A-and to speak with Kimura-san for work in the fields today."

Sakura dragged her fingers over her face, sighing. "Thank you, Ami-san."

She saw the footsteps shadowed under the door hover. "I'm sorry for what happened, Imari-san." Ami said through the wood, sounding both sympathetic and afraid of treading over something that wasn't her business.

"It's fine, Ami-san." Sakura told her, pulling a comb through her hair and double-checking the roots for their color. "All things considered, Hayashi-san is being quite nice. She could have added the rug to my tab."

"Yes, but Hayashi-san is not unfair, and you will learn she is not unkind." Ami called softly.

When she was gone, Sakura headed into her room to change her yukata, digging out the pants and shirt she'd worn upon her arrival. A guard observed her as she left and Sakura shook herself of a chill. Leaving Kobayashi's house might not be as easy as she'd thought.

Outside, the sun was spreading long, rosy fingers over the indigo sky. Sakura tilted her head north, looking steadily at the trees far off in the distance-cresting a wide expanse of rolling hills and the faint thread of a stone wall-behind which her comrades were waiting. Passing by the launder, she observed the four women working in the soft sunlight, disassembling delicate kimonos so they could be washed. They had wide, wooden tubs filled with clear water. Before them, near their building, were three long lines with clothes and sheets snapping lazily in the wind. Two white sheets hung from the lines. Yesterday, there had been another three. Shikamaru must have known they were a daily staple for the launders. Walking by them, Sakura made her way steadily towards the plowed lines rising into view. She spotted a tall man with the chrysanthemum crest peeking over the rim of a straw hat that dangled from his back. His hakama were tucked into leather boots. When she was feet from him, he turned to regard her with hazel eyes. Sweeping his gaze over her briefly, he faced the men working the fields again. "You must be Imari." His voice, grainy and low, was tempered by the even, soft tone of his words. "You will be helping us transplant the saplings today."

Sakura remained where she was, feeling the wind run softly through her bangs.

Kimura looked over his shoulder at her, raising a brow. "Well?"

A tiny crease appeared between her forehead. _Well, what?_ She wanted to ask.

Sweeping an arm out to the fields, he flicked his hand in a gesture that reminded her of an owner shooing his cat. Holding away her desire to look incredulous, Sakura swept by him into the field, much more regally than an indentured healer had a right to, he noted.

The men in the fields paused when she approached. Sakura looked quickly between them, searching for an open face to beg directions from. None of the eyes staring at her from tan, leathery skin seemed keen on helping her. Most of them, after too much time had been wasted, bent down to the ground they had been working, pulling small, green stalks from the moist earth. She watched them place the saplings into wooden trays lined with a thin coating of pungent earth. Cautiously, Sakura bent to touch a sapling, moving slowly enough for the workers to chastise. Wrapping her fingers over the delicate stem, Sakura pulled cautiously. The sapling slipped from the ground easily. She held it up with surprise. _That was easy._

Six hours later found Sakura arching her back with eyes screwed shut in a wince. Her feet and knees ached deeply, her fingernails were black with dried compost, and her skin was grimy with dirt and sweat. Tilting her head to the sky, Sakura closed her eyes, exhaling loudly as her arms hung bonelessly at her sides. She pressed a hand to her stomach as it rumbled.

"Almost quitting time." The man at her left, the same man that had come to Kobayashi's manor with her and Sasuke, said to cheer her.

"Yeah." She muttered, swiping at another sapling.

"That's enough."

Sakura glanced up. Kimura stood at the head of the fields, hands on his hips and feet set shoulder-length apart. "That's enough for one day." He repeated again.

All around her the men unfurled themselves from the ground, grabbing their heavy trays of saplings as they moved off the field.

Sakura arrived to her room streaked with dirt and feeling as weary as her early days under Kakashi's tutelage. She saw Ami kneeling on her pallet. Immediately, she knew something was wrong.

Ami's face was ashen, her eyes, when they met hers, were wide and glossy, and her hands were pressed tightly to her chest, holding a folded slip of cloth.

Sakura went to her side. "Ami-san, what's wrong?"

Her mouth opened, but before she could answer, a shrill shriek rang from the hall. "Search every room!"

Ami's breath caught. Turning her head, Sakura watched the canvas of their door, listening to the heavy footfalls of soldiers coming near. Stepping up, she moved the curtain aside. She saw several maids scrambling from their rooms as the soldiers pulled apart their belongings, upturning pallets and clothing. Standing with her chin tilted high and her eyes dark and wild, was Hisoka. Her hair was loose and slightly disheveled and she was dressed only in the first two layers of an inner kimono. Hayashi stood somberly at her side, looking on with hard eyes as the guards frightened her maids.

"I want it found!" Hisoka screamed again, fists tightening.

Sakura turned back to Ami. "What's going on?" She asked, glancing at the cloth Ami held tightly.

"I-" She began, opening her mouth wide as she chocked on a sob. "I did not think she would miss it."

Sakura reached for Ami's hands, unwinding them from whatever she held. Pulling back the flap of coarse cloth, Sakura stared with wide eyes. A lacquered comb, engraved with mother of pearl and wound with white gold wire. She shared a glance with Ami, hearing the echo of the guards getting closer. Hastily rewrapping it, Sakura grabbed her pallet. Tearing apart the seams at one edge, she stuffed the comb into the straw filling and threw a blanket haphazardly over it all. Grabbing Ami's hand, she dragged her out of the room, standing by the entryway as they waited like the other maids.

The closer the guards came to their room, the louder Sakura's heart beat. She watched Hisoka trail after the guards, doorway by doorway, until she and two men stood at the entrance to her room. Ami was rigid beside her, gaze focused on the floor as she bowed her back to Hisoka. Sakura did the same, feeling a breeze lift from the canvas when it was pulled aside harshly. The dull, wooden thud of Ami's knickknacks scattering over the floor followed the sound of their pallets being roughly shaken. Sakura pressed her nails into her palm, barely daring to breathe. She wasn't sure what sort of woman Hisoka was, but she doubted her wrath would be light. How long would this delay her objective? Would it jeopardize the mission entirely?

Sakura saw two thin, dry stalks of straw slip through the curtain. They settled unremarkably over the stone floor, glaring up at her. Her heart jumped hollowly within her chest. The large hand of a guard swept the canvas aside. Held in his fingers was a small package wrapped in coarse cloth.

"My lady." The man bowed, passing it to her.

Hisoka took the offered package with unhurried movements. Her long, thin fingers unwrapped the cloth, and her gaze darkened when the comb gleamed up at her. "Which was it?"

A breathless silence fell over the hall. Every face turned to watch the exchange.

"Which-" Hisoka repeated, snapping her face to them. "-of you stole from me?"

Sakura stood wordlessly, Ami a step behind her. Her heaving shoulders drew Hisoka's stare like a snake drawn to the shake of a bush.

"Was it you?" Her words fell coolly from her mouth. Taking a quick, short step forward, she dug her nails into Ami's shoulder as Ami gave a cry of despair, backpedaling into the wall.

"Why, you little thief!" Hisoka shook her harshly.

"It wasn't her!" Sakura yelled without thought, instantly regretting it as Hisoka turned methodically towards her. Shikamaru was going to kill her.

Averting her gaze as she bowed, Sakura added. "It wasn't her, my lady. I-" She stuttered momentarily, eyes flicking over the stone floor rapidly as she thought of an excuse. "-I found the comb, beneath the engawa as I cleaned. I think someone had hidden it there, my lady. But I feared returning it, lest the blame fall to me."

She didn't dare straighten from her bow, waiting anxiously for Hisoka's verdict.

"Come." She breezed by Sakura on light, graceful feet, newly composed.

* * *

Sakura waited in Kobayashi's empty office. The doors were closed and Hisoka had gone to find him, leaving guards behind. Looking once at the carved wood of the double doors, Sakura rushed to the desk, rifling for the ledger. She tore several sheets from it, catching her breath as the sound of ripping paper filled the quite space thunderously. Quickly, with another breathless glance at the door, she folded the records, tucking them into the bindings underneath her shirt. Loosening her braided her, she slid it over one shoulder-to hide any discrepancy.

Kneeling where Hisoka had left her, Sakura worked on calming the beat of her heart. She thought about her careless decision to help Ami, and almost smiled, thanking karma, her stars, and the gods for repaying her. The doors creaked open and Sakura bowed, glancing discreetly at Kobayashi's form. Now, she just had to weather whatever he or his mistress dealt out. She wasn't overly concerned about that, anxious perhaps, she recognized as her pulse quickened, but not afraid.

"Rise."

Sakura straightened her back immediately, but like any humble, apologetic servant, she did not meet his eyes.

Standing steps from her, Kobayashi observed her calmly, then spoke again. "Hisoka-san tells me you have stolen from her."

Shifting her eyes nervously, Sakura nodded, bowing her head convincingly.

"Do you have anything to add?" His voice was soft and stern, but not at all angry. "I-" He prompted. "-have a long journey ahead of me tomorrow. I suggest, before I decide to retire, that you explain yourself."

"I did not steal, my lord." Sakura finally said. "I found the comb wrapped in cloth beneath the engawa."

Kobayashi's brow rose. "Oh?" He asked casually. "And why did you not return it?"

With hesitation, Sakura repeated her lie. "I am new to your household-" She began, fisting her hands over her pants. "-I feared, that without anyone to vouch for my character, I would be blamed for the theft."

"Had you brought me the comb, I would have believed you. After all, what reason could a thief have for unmasking herself?" He walked to stand closer, hakama gliding over the floor. "Look at me." His brown eyes regarded her carefully, searching her eyes. "I do not know what to believe anymore. Any faith I may have given you is affected by your actions, you may not be a thief, but your deception has made you a liar."

Sakura bowed, staring at the heirloom rug on the floor. "I meant no disrespect, I was only afraid, my lord."

Kobayashi turned to look at Hisoka. "You are the victim in this, do you believe her?"

Hisoka, outfit now complete with an outer kimono, cast her expressionless eyes towards Sakura. Sakura felt the burn of her gaze as she heard her words ring definitely, cruelly, through the room. "No, I do not."

There was a moment where Kobayashi caught Hisoka's gaze, holding it while he waited for something. When Hisoka set her lips in a stubborn line, he seemed disappointed. Facing Sakura with a sigh, he said: "The lady has spoken-"

Sakura understood then, that while Kobayashi was a firm man with illegitimate business dealings, some less moral than others, he was not inherently cruel. That virtue fell to his mistress.

"-You will spend two nights outside without food or water. The Lady will send for you on the third. Perhaps, misery-" He finished without conviction. "-will teach you honesty."

When the guards dragged her away from the warm glow of the office and into the dull light of night, the angry rumble of thunder cut over the land and Sakura could only think of the inked paper under her shirt.

"I need to use the restroom." She said quickly to one of the guards. It had been the first thing that came to mind. "Please." She added.

The man looked at his partner, then at her, then back at the office and up ahead to an outhouse. "Make it quick."

* * *

"Is she still there?" Shikamaru asked.

"Yes." Hinata answered quietly, veins prominent at her temple.

Sasuke scowled, grasping the binoculars that hung from the branch of a tree. He brought Sakura's haggard figure into view. Her hands were tied to a tall, wooden stake and she was sitting slumped on the ground, head and hair falling forward in a deep sleep ignorant of the frigid rain running over her skin in rivulets.

"She'll be a hindrance." Sasuke's voice was cold.

Shikamaru set his gaze on him, eyes narrowing just the slightest. "Deprivation of food and water generally have that effect."

"She fucked up and you know it, Nara. I shouldn't be surprised." He drawled, adjusting the focus.

Shikamaru did not respond, grinding his cigarette into the dirt. Arguing with him would only cause more trouble.

Biting her lip, Hinata glanced briefly at Sasuke. "Please do not say that. Sakura-san is a capable kunoichi, and we are her friends." _And you will not speak poorly of her to us, _she seemed to imply.

Turning without the slightest apparent remorse, Sasuke gazed back at Sakura. She had stirred from her sleep and had her head tilted, leaning tiredly against the stake at her back as she opened her mouth, desperate to catch the rain. Her ashen skin made him tighten his grip on the binoculars. He watched a guard approach her, loosen her bonds and pull her to a stand. She leaned heavily into him as he dragged her to an outhouse roughly, waiting outside while she finished. Anger traveled through the veins in his blood.

"We'll need to get her out if she's not free soon." Shikamaru followed her image through his own binoculars, noting the signs of dehydration working through her.

"She has her earrings." Sasuke reminded him dryly. "She can free herself anytime and call us in."

"Whatever she's waiting for-" Shikamaru interrupted in his lazy drawl, tinged with the black tones of irritation. "-isn't worth her life. If nothing changes, Plan Beta enters effect." His words were final, but Sasuke felt no need to argue.

* * *

During the morning, she had been cold, terribly, terribly cold. The rain had sliced through her skin and settled into her muscles and bones. She imagined it ran through her very veins. She remembered curling into the stake, knees folding over her chest and feet wound around each other. Even then, wrapped tightly like a flower closed at night, she shook. Her hands, tied at her back and with no way to settle beneath her armpits or between her knees, had been especially affected. Now, however, she was burning. The noon soon beat down over her head. She thought this was the way pigs felt inside broilers, if they were alive. Sakura's head fell forward, cracked lips parted as she swallowed the hot air in rapid pants. Her heartbeat was the quick flutter of wings within her chest, timing the seconds impatiently. She did not know when the sun forgave her exactly, somewhere between a stomach cramp and a dizzy spell, but by the time the guard came, the sky was darker and the breeze was cool.

The man untied her wrists quickly, dragging her to her feet. The hammers beating away in her head intensified as a result and the world twisted with an intense wave of vertigo. She was too out of it to walk on her own, so he lent her his shoulder as he helped her stumble to the outhouse.

"You're nicer." She whispered, voice the dry scratch of autumn leaves rubbing together. The man didn't reply, only held the door for her until she had propped herself against the handle.

Inside, she rested against a bare, wood wall, looking at the dirty toilet with vague interest. She didn't need to urinate. A faraway corner of her mind lit up in warning, but the information didn't make it to the surface of her waning attention. Slipping to the ground, uncaring of the dirt floor with its laboratory of unseen stains, she pried a wooden plank away from the bench encasing the toilet. Lifting out the pack of carelessly folded records-where she had hidden them before the rain-Sakura stuffed them down the front of her pants, settling them over her left thigh and draping her shirt across their telltale mark.

An impatient knock rattled the door. "Hey! Hey, you done in there?" At her unheard reply, the man pulled open the door, gaze cautiously averted. "Yeah." She whispered again. "I'm done."

He helped her from the ground, speaking to her roughly, though not harshly. "You shouldn't have taken the Lady's things-" He took her back to the stake. "-Woulda saved yourself a world of trouble." He continued, securing her hands. Before he left, he added lowly. "Hang in there, the Lady was supposed to let you go today, but with the Master away..." He let the words hang.

A hand shaking her shoulder woke her. Blinking slowly, Sakura rose her head lazily from where it hung on her chest. She recognized Ami kneeling before her.

"What-" She began hoarsely but did not finish.

Taking a ladle from the bucket at her side, Ami tipped her chin back. "I brought some water, Imari-san. Please open your mouth." She touched the ladle to Sakura's lips. For a moment, Sakura remained unmoving, eyes half-lidded as she nearly fell back into sleep. "Imari-san, please." Ami begged, voice breaking.

The water wet her lips and Sakura stirred again, parting her mouth. Ami tilted the ladle up carefully, making her drink slowly, more slowly than she wanted. The water slipping over the dry membrane of her mouth, wetting her lips, and clearing the sand from her throat was better than anything she'd ever had, better even than the rain yesterday, which, while prayed for, had chilled her fiercely. She gasped, leaning into the stake. Filling the ladle once more Ami brought it back to her. Sakura drank greedily, sputtering as she chocked and Ami dropped the ladle into the bucket, patting her back. "Please, Imari-san-" Tears fell from her cheeks as she helped Sakura lean forward. "-please, please, forgive me."

Sakura barely registered what she was saying. "Water." She rasped.

Nodding shakily, Ami dipped the ladle into the bucket. "I swear on my ancestors, Imari-san, I will repay you. You have my fealty in, in-" She tripped over her nervous words. "-in whatever you need, I swear it."

The sound of voices reached Ami, and she turned abruptly. "The new guard must have just arrived." Taking her bucket, she caught one last look of Sakura-slumped forward in sleep-putting her hand up to her mouth to stifle a sob, she turned and hurried through the shadows.

After she had disappeared, and the sounds of the guard had shifted further away, Sakura peeled her eyes open. She struggled with the rope at her wrist, shaking her shoulders as she tested them. Tiredly, she rolled her head to the side, settling her ear over the weathered wood of the stake. Pressing into it, she crushed her ear between it and her jaw. It hurt a bit, scratching her skin and tugging angrily at the moonstone earring, but she heard the high-pitched _beep_ whistle in her ear, then stop abruptly. Time to go.

* * *

The guard dropped to the ground at Sasuke's feet, eyes closing as he fell into sleep. Moving forward, Sasuke kneeled behind Sakura, cutting through her bindings. He worked quickly, yet unhurriedly, pulling her up to drape one arm over his shoulder.

"Sasuke?" Her voice was very low and her weight settled over him heavily.

"Shut up." Looking over the grounds, he sought the shadows along a far line of trees. In the dark, his sharingan burned red. He was not worried about it denouncing them, he was worried about his chakra, which flared brightly because of it.

Grasping Sakura's hand tightly, he swung an arm under her knee, drawing her up into his chest. She did not protest, or otherwise speak. _Good, _he thought, hoping for an easy exit, but knowing it would be unlikely.

The receiver in his ear crackled. "Sasuke. Three guards ahead."

"Over." He whispered, switching directions. He remembered the lines of the blueprint he'd studied, following with confidence the labyrinth of Kobayashi's orchards.

The smell of fruit sweetened the air and he felt the ripe flesh of peaches yield underfoot. Sasuke hurried down the row of trees, avoiding outstretched branches and their rustling leaves. The barking of a dog made Sakura press her nose into his throat and his heart quickened for an altogether different reason.

"Dogs." She whispered.

"Hush." He hissed.

The moonless sky offered them protection from prying eyes, and Shikamaru had drugged the compound's dogs, but his use of the sharingan could have alerted the guards.

Three shuriken whistled by him, snagging into the trunk of the tree at his side. Narrowing his brow, Sasuke ducked into the next row, disappearing in a burst of speed. Balancing precariously on the upper branches of a tree, he waited as the shinobi swept by them, then stopped up ahead. Clutching a hand over Sakura's mouth, he set her down over the thickest part of the branch, her back against the tree's bark. He caught her protest within the shield of his hand, and, holding her distant gaze, pressed a finger up to his lips. Sakura nodded. Taking her hand, he pushed it against the rough tree. She looked down, tracing a path through the leaves to the ground some meters below them. When her grip tightened, he fell away from her view.

The guards' chakra neared him, and he kept his sharingan deactivated until they were close enough. Dropping soundlessly to them, he snapped his eyes open, tomoe spinning. The first man tumbled to the ground immediately, and he had only to meet the second's gaze before he followed. The third man caught on, settling his eyes nervously to his feet.

"Never thought I'd meet an Uchiha." He said lightly, sliding his foot out behind him.

Shikamaru's voice cut into his ear. "Guards coming your way, more sweeping the perimeter. Get out now."

Tapping his ear, the man smiled at the ground. "Bad news?"

His condescending tone darkened Sasuke's gaze. He was standing behind him before the man could tell he'd moved. "Bad for you." He whispered by his ear, before catching his startled gaze. He watched the body hit the ground with disinterest.

Turning, he found Sakura's perch and helped her stand, wishing they could use a transportation jutsu. But it would be some distance before they could. Picking her up again, they flew from branch to branch, leaves slapping over their faces, necks, and arms. He felt a high concentration of chakra lining the wall over which he and Sakura needed to pass. Pausing, he dropped Sakura's feet. "Get on my back." He ordered, wrapping her hand around his neck as he turned away from her. Sasuke shot an impatient look over his shoulder. "Now."

Struggling, Sakura gripped her wrists at his collarbone, letting him pull her thighs up around his waist. His hands were busy holding her up, but in a pinch, he had the mobility needed to make any necessary signs. "If I let go, you hold on. Is that clear?" He asked in a serious voice as they traveled the last stretch of the orchard. "Sakura!" He questioned harshly.

"Yeah." She slurred into his shoulder.

"Our location's compromised." Shikamaru spoke quickly through the receiver. "We're moving out."

Sasuke felt his brow fall over his eyes. They were loosing control.

"Meet us on the way. Confirm."

"Confirmed." Sasuke bit out.

"Over." The white noise coming from his receiver fell silent.

Abruptly, Sasuke turned sharply to the right, feeling Sakura grip his neck tightly. He zeroed in on a lone guard, not yet joined by his reinforcement, and sent him tumbling to the ground with one look. Jumping over the wall, he ran into the woods. The chakra of several shinobi were faithfully following. Cursing, Sasuke bordered the trail of a river, heading northeast. Sakura leaned into him, and he felt his heartbeat increase as the weight of her life settled over his shoulders. Breathing heavily through his nose, he sent chakra to the soles of his feet, running straight over the river's surface. The loud rustle of the guards crashed through the bush at their backs. He turned and slid backwards across the river, digging his feet in to skid to a stop, water slicing over his ankles. The border protecting Kobayashi's compound from any and all transportation jutsu fell away, just where Nara had redrawn it.

Predatorily, Kobayashi's shinobi fell from the trees and grew from the shadows, narrowing in on them with slow, sure steps. "You're not getting out of here." A man with chin-length blond hair said.

Smirking triumphantly, Sasuke dropped Sakura's legs. Her grip tightened at his neck. "Have you checked your shields lately?"

A flicker of surprise flashed over his face, but his questioning _"What?"_ was overcast by a burst of white smoke.

Sasuke landed steadily over the solid ground, and, without hesitating a moment, formed the seals for another transportation jutsu. Thrice more, he did so, finally leaning heavily over his knees, catching his breath as he held on tightly to Sakura's wrists. He set into a steady run after that, taking them across several kilometers before he stopped. Hearing Sakura stumble from his back, he caught her arms as they fell away, turning to help her sit. Running his fingers across her face, he scowled, tracing the dark circles under her eyes and the scabs on her cracked lips. Setting his fingers along her neck, he found her pulse. It was faster than it should be.

Sasuke snapped his fingers testily before her eyes. "Sakura.

"Sakura."

Her eyelids peeled back slowly and a whispered reply left her mouth.

"How do you feel?" He reached into his holster, keeping his gaze on her as he snagged the edge of a paper packet. Shikamaru had given it to him in case they were separated.

"Sakura."

Her eyes fell closed. "Tired…Dizzy."

Tearing the seal with his teeth, Sasuke poured the blue powder into his canteen, recapping and shaking it roughly. The water sloshed loudly within it.

"What else?" He asked, untwisting the cap.

"Headache."

Sasuke slipped his hand under Sakura's neck, tilting her head up as he placed the canteen to her lips. "Drink." He ordered her, tipping the water into her mouth.

The bittersweet tang of a nutrient-rich, hydration mix slipped over her parched tongue. Sakura swallowed desperately, gripping his elbow as her throat visibly swelled and contracted. Sasuke counted five seconds, then drew the canteen away. Gasping, Sakura tried to reach for it. "You'll get more later." With his thumb, he wiped away the water spilled over her chin and jaw. Her gaze found his. "Sleep." His toneless voice irritated her, but she was halfway through to meeting his order and too tired to argue a moot point. When her breathing evened, Sasuke stood, sweeping his eyes over the landscape. Nothing stirred. Sitting beside Sakura, he watched their surroundings vigilantly, but with his usual unaffected front. His cool stare eventually fell over Sakura again. Her hair was dirty and amazingly, still brown. Curling his finger over a lock, he lifted it away from her. The strands were softer than he would have thought, even though the rain likely washed away her last conditioning. Her skin was red from the sun and he had the urge to touch it. Hesitantly, his hand hovered over her cheek while he watched her eyes closely. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, pulling back quickly when she shifted her head. His brow narrowed and he scowled, turning sharply away. Drawing his fingers through his hair roughly, he exhaled. _Idiot_. Resentment swelled in him for her, for stirring such thoughts.

Another hour passed before he took the canteen from the floor at his feet. Shaking her shoulder, he gave her a few sips. Even though he pulled it away immediately, Sakura remained reluctantly quiet. Drawing her arm over his shoulder, he stood with her, tucking a hand under her knees to hoist her up. He said nothing to her as he set a steady pace towards Konoha, moving away from the chakra signatures trailing them. He also did not mention the feel of her skin against his hands, or the way her breath whispering over his collarbone made it difficult for him to find his footing. Ignoring all this, and keeping his careful composure, Sasuke stopped periodically to let her drink small sips. By the next day, he dropped half a bag of dehydrated banana chips into her hand. She ate them ravenously and had to bite her lip to refrain from asking for more. Her mind had finally caught up with her and she knew she shouldn't shock her stomach like that. Nevertheless, Sasuke caught her eyes tracing the path of the bag as he replaced it within his holster. Seeing some clarity in her stare, he asked: "Did you get the documents?"

Lightly, she patted her thigh. "They're safe." Her voice was still raspy, a bit weak, but clearer.

Skeptically, his brow rose. "Everything?"

"_Everything." _She enunciated slowly. A brief, satisfied smile flickered over face. "And more." She added, remembering the Hyuga. Just as the silence had stretched far between them and her eyes were closing in a weary, contended sleep, he stood.

"Get up. We're setting out." He said tonelessly.


	20. Day 590: The Wastelands

**Author's Note:**

There were major changes made to chapter 8, _The Tributary_, parts I and II. I've included summaries of those changes at the beginning of each part of that chapter. I apologize for this last minute edit, especially to those of you who have had to gone back and reread this story (I've done this myself and understand the incredible time investment required) and to those of you who read the story recently. On the bright side, the summaries included provide the option of not rereading those chapters should you so choose. This change is effective as of 3/17/2012.

As to this chapter, it's finally posted! (Note: I've reposted this chapter again, as it seemed Fanfiction was giving readers a hard time bringing it up)

As to Reviewer's comments and questions:

1. Yes, we're finally getting to some Sakura+Sasuke time (outside the village). Yay!

2. Sasuke is showing interest in Sakura, though he hasn't figured this out yet.

3. This has become a monstrously long story. Even I have to go back and reread it sometimes (a very time-consuming process), so I do apologize for the unsteady updating schedule (nevertheless, it's an honor that some have taken the time to go back and reread!). As consolation, I've no intention of abandoning this story, it will be finished!

4. It's an honor to hear that some of you have found Sakura's situation in this chapter believable (including Sasuke's character; he's a tough nut to crack) and that even those of you who aren't Naruto+Sakura fans have held no grudge against the important part that relationship plays within a Sasuke+Sakura fic.

I can not thank the reviewers enough for their encouragement, their compliments, and above all, their respect. Even when long lapses of time pass between updates, you've all remained incredibly polite and respectful in your addresses. This is truly and greatly appreciated. Thank you again for your kindness and your encouragements.

As always, dedicated to the reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter 15, Day 590**

**The Wastelands**

Kobayashi's guards trailed them relentlessly. Their course, heading diligently into Konoha had been quickly altered. They could not let them know they were from Fire Country.

A week later found them wandering into a tiny, hostile, trapper's village. Snow crunching underfoot, Sakura shivered heavily, teeth rattling. "Kami." She moaned under her breath as the wind hammered into the pores of her skin. Beside her, hands stubbornly hanging casually at his side, Sasuke turned his head. Glancing at her, he huffed. "Annoying," he said audibly, pulling away the heavy, oiled coat they'd used in Rain. He dropped it over her shoulders brusquely. Sakura, despite his scowl or harsh motions, could only stare openly. Finally, she looked away, cheeks warming as she drew it tightly across her chest, feeling it drag over her ankles, where her own coat fell short.

"I don't need it." She kept her gaze on the damp, wooden planks of the sidewalk.

Sasuke did not acknowledge her, only maintained his blank face. She watched prickles blossom over his flesh.

"Sasuke," She opened her mouth, "you've been coughing since-"

"Shut up."

Sakura clamped her lips tightly shut, anger stirring her blood. His attitude had always been atrocious, she knew, but he hadn't been so short with her since his arrival to Konoha. She refrained from commenting, deciding to watch him closely for the next few days. Maybe then, she would see about dragging out a confession. Turning her gaze sharply to the left, Sakura caught the flash of eyes beyond a drawn curtain.

She and Sasuke wove through the mild crowd milling through the village, ignoring the men who paused in their work to watch them openly, tracking their steps as they approached the general store.

Pulling a cheap, wooden door open, Sasuke let her walk into the space first. Warm air burst over them, and Sakura sighed, savoring the heat. Her nose, toes, and fingers stung. Gliding surely ahead of her, Sasuke stepped up to the counter. The store's owner stood behind it. His dull, brown eyes watched them guardedly and his back stiffened.

"What can I do for you?" He said gruffly, stance confrontational.

Sasuke dumped two, gold ryu over the wooden counter. They clanged dully, whirling in quick circles before falling flat. "Warm clothing, for the both of us."

The man's eyebrows shot up and he stared incredulously at the gold gleaming back at him in the bright glare of the window. Composing himself, he took the coins quickly, dropping them into his pocket as he pointed to the back of the dingy shop. His voice remained hostile, "Fifth aisle. I want to see anything you pick," he added loudly as they moved away. "Won't let you get away with real fur for two coins."

Stopping in his tracks, Sasuke turned methodically. His glare was narrowed, poignant, and sharp. The man clammed up, lips sandwiched firmly between his beard and mustache.

Sakura watched Sasuke take the coat she'd picked from her hand. Almost out of spite, he grabbed an overcoat made from the rustic clippings of dyed bear hide and lined with wool and fur. He picked an identical one for himself. As she took two pairs of pants and several pairs of thick socks, Sakura couldn't help the edges of her lips from curling into a smile.

They left the store without a backwards glance, carrying their new clothes within two leather packs weighed down by canned goods, powdered milk, energy bars, smoked meat, cereal, thermo packs, heat pads, kindling, firewood, sleeping pallets, cooking pots, and one tent. Sasuke tossed a canteen her way. She took several swigs from it. The water was frigid and held the taste of sugar and salt-a homemade remedy for dehydration. Sasuke had purchased the supplies at their last stop, mixing it into their drinking water every time he refilled. Sakura was aware of his vigilance over her, it was the only thing which kept her temper in check when his words struck like a kick to the stomach.

"We can't stay here tonight," Sasuke said from up ahead.

She glanced at his back, sighing. "I know." Her new coat swept outward with each step, offering a glimpse of its soft, fur lining. She dug her hands into her pockets, curling her fingers into her palms. "I think they're herding us," she admitted quietly.

Sasuke's silence was only broken by a cough he caught with the crook of his elbow.

They walked away from the desolate, no-name village, heading straight into Snow Country's white wilderness.

* * *

Hinata dropped to the ground, exhausted. Resting her back against the bark of a sturdy tree, she panted, chest heaving. Her sides hurt and her lungs burned, desperately snatching the air as if they couldn't get enough. She pressed a hand against the stitch needling her ribs, working to regulate her breathing. She brushed her damp hair away from the sweat on her brow, touching the receiver in her ear. Pulling it out, she stuffed it in her pocket. Shikamaru had lost contact with her days ago.

A small cry of frustration and desperation escaped her suddenly. On the very border of her senses, she felt Kobayashi's men appear. They were relentless. She felt like a fox hunted endlessly by hounds, slipping away from their jaws and into the crevice of a den at the last moment. Only, there was no den safe from these hounds. Standing with the help of the tree at her back, Hinata took a steadying breath and formed the seals for a transportation jutsu. It sapped her energy, and she fell tiredly over the foggy ground of a woodland. Hinata gasped, cradling her hip where she had been wounded two days ago. Her healing chakra had closed the wound, but it still ached fiercely. Swallowing a soldier pill, she pulled a localizer from her coat, cradling it between her hands as she read her new coordinates. Her breath snatched and the blood in her veins churned to a halt. Lightening, she had just entered the Land of Lightening. _Just avoid Cloud, Hinata, that's all you must do, _she told herself. "Avoid Cloud," she repeated aloud, struggling to her feet. Problem was, Cloud was a hidden village and outsiders only had a rough understanding of its location, relying on Cloud's shinobi to lead them the rest of the way. Her surname would make such a meeting deadly.

Looking back to the localizer, she saw the green dot flicker weakly, then fade to nothing. A blank, grey screen stared up at her. She tapped it against her palm, wriggling the start button, but it remained unresponsive. Tugging the cover from the battery, she shook it, and replaced it. _Please_, she begged, eyes widening when the localizer lit up. But it was misplaced hope, before she could search any nearby village, the screen faded again.

* * *

They had left the trees behind some time ago. Now…now only barren land reached out before them. An endless fluttering sheet of white stretching to the horizon and beyond. The wind howled insistently, kicking up misty clouds of snow over the ground.

Sakura leaned into the gale, face wrapped up in her spare shirt, chin tucked into her chest, eyes narrowed tightly, and hands stuffed under her arms. The temperature drilled into her bone marrow and her teeth rattled uncontrollably. She stumbled, and Sasuke's hand catching her elbow was the only thing that kept her standing. They'd been in this hell for too long.

"Sasuke," She yelled, struggling to be heard, "we need to find shelter." She glanced cautiously at him, keeping her jaw well within her makeshift scarf. There was ice growing from his brows and hair, sticking to his skin. His own wool shirt was wound over his nose and mouth. Though he probably felt as cold as she did, he did a good job of hiding it.

Tugging her elbow, he pulled her to the most prominent hill he could spot with his sharingan. It came, at most, to their hips.

Dropping their packs, they set up the tiny, blue tent, fighting against the wind's snagging hands. With her strength, Sakura struck each stake into the hard, frozen ground. Holding the flap aside, Sasuke waited for her to crawl in, pushing their packs ahead of her, before he followed.

Sakura wanted to curl into herself, but as she heard the fast, high-pitched sound of Sasuke zipping their tent shut, she forced herself to dig out their last supplies, stooping her back to accommodate herself within the tiny space. An energy bar that was too frozen to eat, and one ramen-flavored thermo pack. Sasuke handed her the canteen. Placing the granola bar under the ramen before she broke the seal, Sakura poured water into the pack, closing it shut quickly. It began to hiss softly, expanding and releasing warm steam through the perforated edges. Both Sasuke and her leaned into it, letting the mist graze their frozen fazes and sweep into their lungs. Sasuke swiped his knuckles under his nose.

Gingerly, Sakura's frozen fingers handled the steaming pack and despite the scalding heat, she took a greedy sip straight from it, swallowing long threads of noodles and chunks of vegetable that were terrible but tasted better than heaven. The ramen burned its way down her throat and into her belly. Her hands shook as she passed it to Sasuke. They finished it in two more desperate swallows. Peeling away the wrapper from the warm granola bar, Sakura broke it in half, passing one end to Sasuke. They ate it quickly, before it lost its heat and became too hard to chew.

Rubbing her burned tongue over the roof of her mouth, Sakura lowered herself on her sleeping pallet, wrapping a heating pad-newly activated-over her feet. She pulled Sasuke's sleeve. Wordlessly, he settled behind her with a deep, rattling cough. She dragged his arm over her, noting for the first time how he too was shivering. With the toe of her boot, she pulled his feet under the heating pad and began tinkering with their localizer. Uselessly it read, _Unchartered Area. _"I guess I know where they were herding us," she said brokenly between mirthless laughs, clattering teeth, and the shallow pants of her rapid breath.

"Slow your breathing," he said into her ear, pulling her closer and prying the localizer from her hands. She tucked her fingers under her armpits. "Focus on your chakra and draw it into the first stages of a fire jutsu."

"'K."

* * *

He lifted his glass high into the dim, smoky air. "Kampai!" he shouted. The morning drunks around him looked his way from the corners of their eyes, not at all as enthusiastic. Brow wrinkling, Suigetsu shrugged his shoulders and tipped back the sake. "Spoilsports," he muttered to no one in particular, leaning his chin into his palm. The sanded wood of the counter was damp beneath his elbow. At one end, he saw the barkeep pour a jug of water over the bar, washing away the cracker crumbs and beer stains left by a recent customer.

He reached for his bottle, ready to pour himself another round when a gangly boy came bursting through the doors. The sun at his back crowned him in a hazy halo and the bar's patrons squinted their eyes against the strong light. "They just pulled a body from the river," his words were delivered in between heaving breaths and Suigetsu caught the fear in his gaze. Well, that was nothing to get flustered about. This _was_ River Country. Taking a sip, he watched the barkeeper freeze where he stood, hand fisting into the rag he held.

Starting to cry, the boy added, "she looks like ma."

The man turned stonily to his customers. "The bar's closed. Your drinks are all free if you leave now."

Grabbing his bottle by the neck, Suigetsu strolled outside before the others. He saw a crowd forming near a canal fed by the local river. The children among them were held far away by mothers or fathers, or they were sent on their way. The boy from the bar ran past him, nearly knocking his shoulder. His father, the barkeeper, followed on his heels. "Aiko!" He bellowed, snatching the boy's shirt. He pulled him towards him. "You stay here, do you understand me, Aiko?"

Tears and snot streamed down the boy's face. "But they said she's got ma's hair. She's got ma's hair," he repeated hoarsely, wiping his face with his shirt and keeping it hidden under the collar, ashamed to cry in front of his father.

Gripping both his shoulders tightly, the man told him to stay still. Straitening to his full height, the barkeep made his way with quick, dignified steps to the crowd. They let him pass, patting his back and murmuring words.

"It's not her," some whispered, "I'm sure of it."

Suigetsu was just about to leave when he caught, through a window of elbows and fluttering skirts, a flash of red hair. He couldn't stop his heart from skipping a beat.

He saw the man's head shake and he rose quickly to his knees, calling his son. "Aiko! Aiko!" he yelled, running to him and tugging him into a rough embrace the boy returned. "It's not her," he said shakily, with a broken sort of elation. "It's not her."

Suigetsu peeled his gaze away, slowly bringing it back to the crowd, as if he could see through them the body they were bent over. The taste of bile rose in his throat as he drew closer. A dark feeling settled into the pit of his stomach and all he could imagine was Karen's dead face, as if he were already seeing it. Still clutching his bottle of sake, Suigetsu pushed through the crowd. They looked at the stranger with hesitant curiosity. Finally, the last man stepped aside, and Suigetsu came face to face with the back of a young woman. Her clothes and skin were torn from the river's rough touch, and her color was a sickly shade riding the line between grey, blue, and green. He stood watching her, unable to see her face through her tangled, red hair, and unable to kneel and lift it away. But he knew.

"Turn her around."

The villagers hesitated, but the quality of his voice must have moved them. One man bent to his knee, using a strip of cloth to tug her shoulder. Her body rolled onto her back and, as the man pulled her hair away, Suigetsu's breath left him in one quick, soundless exhale.

"You knew her, son?"

He was silent, swallowing down a rush of hot acid. "I knew her." Eyes remaining dry and blank, he stepped away, throwing a bag of coins at their feet. "Bury her."

Suigetstu left without a backwards glance, fist still clenched in a shattering grip over his sake bottle.

* * *

The glow of a noonday sun woke her; it filtered in through the tent's cloth, painting a hazy, blue glow over them.

Blinking, Sakura coughed. She shivered and thought she would never be warm again. "Sasuke," she called, shaking his arm.

"Sasuke." She said again, turning to face him.

His brow was smoothed in deep sleep, breath rasping slowly from his mouth. "Sasuke?" Lowering the shirt from around his face, Sakura saw that his skin was paler than usual. She touched his brow, but couldn't tell if he was colder than her fingers. His eyes snapped open then, while her hand was still settled over his face. His dark gaze watched her steadily, until she dropped her arm. "We should get moving." Neither of them spoke about the lunch they wouldn't eat.

Outside, the unforgiving gale had slowed to a casual breeze and the sun shone surely from a blue-white sky. It warmed them marginally as they packed up their tent. Sakura folded the cloth carefully, storing it safely within her pack while she thought about how it had probably saved their lives. She hoped Shika and Hinata were alright.

Several feet ahead of her, Sasuke waited. She heard him try to stifle a cough, but it broke free from his lips in a loud burst. Sakura gripped the straps of her pack tightly. "You're sick," she said with surety.

The line of his brow remained unmoving. Sakura didn't say anything more as she waited patiently, hiding her plan from him under a careless shrug. When the racking, wet cough scratched itself from his lungs, she set a glowing hand at his back, her eyes falling closed as his shoulders shook.

Sasuke glared at her, knocking her hand away.

"It's not too bad, but we'll have to treat it," she told him, unbothered. "I'll work on it when we break." But the routine they'd established was interrupted that day. Sasuke caught the sound first. It was a familiar noise that neither of them heard frequently, yet it was unmistakable. He snapped his head sharply to the ground as a second, louder _crack_ split the ear. At his side, Sakura lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide, and he knew, that like him, her heart had begun to pound furiously within her chest. He watched Sakura still after her hesitant step backwards was answered by the breaking of ice. Her booted foot sunk marginally into the snowy ground. Both of them watched water trail lazily out to fill the depression, kissing the sole of her boot. She looked at him again, face ashen. Slowly, Sasuke extended his hand to her, spreading his weight. "Grab my hand, Sakura."

She stretched her hand out to him, and he locked his fingers over her wrist. Breath stilled in his throat, he pulled her gently to him. She flinched when the ice cracked again, angry, shattered lines tracing themselves like a network of gruesome, white veins at her feet. He took a step back, drawing her to him, away from the broken mirror under her. He felt her chakra focus on the soles of her feet. "There's not enough surface area," she said calmly, her chakra still humming. "I'll sink."

Tightening his grip, he tugged her to him without warning. She yelled as the ice yielded, swallowing her ankles before they both fell backwards, clear of the jagged blemish that gleamed blackly from the white snow. Sakura stared for a moment, panting, before her head fell softly against the ice. Sasuke was still gripping her hand when she turned her neck. "I owe you." She would never know if his long gaze was the prologue to an answer, because, in an instant, the thundering crack of ice rang through the silence of Snow Country's wastelands. The ice snapped from under Sasuke and the water swallowed him almost entirely. His arms shot out, fingernails dragging over the ice as he held tightly. Screaming his name, Sakura gripped both his hands. His effort to hoist himself out only broke more ice, widening his prison into a large pool. Sakura pulled him with her as she scrambled back from the shifting edge. "Walk over the water." She said with panic weaving into her hasty instruction. When his chakra steadied him onto elbows and knees, Sakura dragged him onto the ice cautiously. "Keep it up!" She said, eyeing the ice holding firmly under him. They didn't waste a moment in scrambling back.

Sasuke fell to the ground, coughing violently and panting. Hunching into himself, he shook, teeth rattling as he groaned lowly.

"Sasuke. Sasuke," Sakura repeated, stripping his wet coat away, "I need you to remember your own advice. Sasuke," She threw her coat over him, "come on, start working on that fire jutsu. And get rid of the wet clothes," she said, dumping his pack over the ground. Empty cans, extra clothing, the kindling, and the firewood rolled out. Tearing her teeth into the wrapping, Sakura tore open the package, dumping the wood into an iron pan. She skipped the kindling, forming quick seals with her hands as she brought her fingers to her lips. Blowing through the guide of her hand, she aimed a hasty stream of fire at the wood. It took her another desperate try before it would catch. Gripping him under his arms, she dragged Sasuke to the fire. He tucked himself so close, she had to pull the coat away from the flames before it caught. She slapped his hands away when he began to fumble with the laces of his boots, fingers too numb for him to tell what he was doing. "Put them over the fire," she snapped, tugging his boots and socks off. Sakura worked the sash at his pants, undoing the tie. He did nothing to stop her, instead, busy stripping out of his shirt. "Fuck," he whispered.

"You're gonna be fine," Sakura assured him halfheartedly, gasping when she saw his bare back. His skin was stretched painfully over his spine and she could count each vertebrae and rib from where she sat_. _Prying her gaze away, she helped him into dry clothes. They were the same ones from Rain, all light cottons and not at all appropriate, but they were dry. Tearing the wool shirt wrapped around her face, she guided him into it, noticing his blue lips. Ripping open their last warming packs, she stuffed some into his shirt and pressed two into his feet and hands. She saw his toes and fingers dig into them while he settled onto his side, limbs locking close to his torso as he ground his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, panting harshly.

Sakura took her sleeping pallet and rolled him onto it with some difficulty. She pulled his own pallet over him, before scrambling to throw the tent over him too. She anchored it crudely at two sides and slipped under it and the pallet. The tent formed a bubble over their heads that trapped their warm breath and allowed the heat of the fire to flicker through to them. She tucked the pallet over their feet and the edges of their bodies, curling close to his back and rubbing his arms with quick, heavy strokes while she focused on the first stages of a fire jutsu. "It's going to be fine," she repeated.

* * *

She was running a fever and she was sure she had an infection. The skin over her hip, where the round, puckered scar of her recent wound lay, was impossibly tender. She touched her hand to it, pressing experimentally. She nearly screamed. Her pelvis felt like it would shatter beneath her. At least, Hinata thought, closing her eyes, she had lost Kobayashi's men. The damp earth beneath her was kept at bay by her oil slicked coat and the chills crawling across her skin were broken by sudden flashes of heat. Her eyes peeled open when a twig snapped. Activating her bykagun, she looked out across the forest, tracing the slow, meek chakra paths of trees, plants, insects, and small animals. Her gaze fell fearfully over the distinct shape of a person, not far off, and churning with the active, fully developed chakra paths of a shinobi. With her elbows, she dragged herself deep beneath the leaves of a wide bush. Quickly, she ripped a strip of fabric from her shirt, wrapping it over her eyes and deactivating her bloodtrait. Her heart beat drummed a fast, heavy tempo as she waited for him to find her. Beneath her back, gripped in a white fist, was a kunai. She hoped this was not the sort of man who would make her use it.

"Hey." His voice, young, but smooth, startled her. He sounded so near. Without the bykagun and with her blindfold cutting away the moonlight, she could not see him.

He shifted his footfalls, letting them echo audibly over the forest floor. "I can tell you're hurt," he said, stopping some feet away from her. "Who holds your allegiance?"

She remained quiet, breathing rapidly.

"I won't kill you, even if you are an enemy nation. Although, if you are, I won't lie, I'll have to take you in. You'll receive treatment, though."

The wind stirred, rustling the leaves in the treetops.

"My name's Kenta, I'm from Cloud."

Hinata opened her mouth, speaking softly, "Konoha. My allegiance belongs to the kage of Konoha.

"Well, see there. We're allies!" he said conversationally, still not moving towards her. "Now I don't have to throw you in jail. But you're kind of trusting, aren't you? What if I hadn't been who I said I was?" Observing the band wrapped over her eyes, he waved a hand in front of her. "Can you see me?"

Her lips remained loosely sealed.

"I need to get near you, if I'm going to help you." Kenta remained crouched in a squat, arms hanging over his thighs as he waited patiently for her.

"Okay."

Nodding, he moved towards her. "And by the way, Sweets, don't stab me with whatever it is you're hiding."

Blushing, Hinata, gripped her kunai tighter still. She startled when his fingers brushed her shoulder. "Sorry." His voice was right over her face. "Just letting you know I'm here. I'm going to grab your arm and place it over my shoulder. Is there something I should be aware of? Life-threatening wounds that will start bleeding all over me as soon as I move you?"

There was a joking edge to his voice that made Hinata think he was smiling. But despite how easy it made her feel, she did not tell him just where or what her wound was. "No."

She felt him ready himself to hoist her from under the bushes, so she slipped her tongue between both rows of teeth, biting it as her hip shot deep, electrifying currents through her.

When he settled her gently over the ground, she was gasping.

"Alright, perhaps I should rephrase my question. Any life-threatening wounds, bleeding or otherwise, that I should know about?

"I can't help you if I don't know."

Hinata squeezed her eyes shut tightly, speaking softly and with some difficulty. "Are you a medic-nin?"

"No."

"Then how are you going to help me?"

"Smartass, aren't you?" He touched the back of his hand to her forehead, making her flinch. "You've got one hell of a fever."

She heard the crinkling of a wrapper. His hand pressed a small, thin capsule into hers. "That's a Type B Soldier Pill. Guaranteed to relieve fevers, aches, and cure common bacterial infections."

Hinata smoothed her fingers over it, feeling the thin edge between the two parts of the capsule. She held it in her palm for a long while. Her mind turned over the different possibilities and she was terrified of accepting medication from this stranger.

"No one will make you take it." She heard him say as he stood. "We'll camp here for the night. There's a four day journey ahead of us if we want to reach the nearest village. They can treat you properly."

Hinata tucked the pill into her pocket, feeling her hip throb until sleep took her away from the pain.

* * *

Kenta, Hinata realized, was the sort of man her father would warn her away from. He said things that made her blush, and seemed particularly proud of the fact. She had seen, through the cloth of her blindfold and with the aid of good sunlight, that he was near her age, with deep, black hair and a lean frame.

"How's the hip?"

"Fi-Fine," she stuttered, drawn from her thoughts. She had taken the pill in the morning, after she'd woken up so dizzy and pain-addled that she screamed when Kenta tried to help her sit. It still hurt, especially as they traveled, but the pill kept her on the very edge of unconsciousness, where the pulsing, throbbing pain felt distant from her.

"Kinuko-san," running at high speeds over the ground, Kenta used the name she gave him-other than her sister's, the name of Neji's wife had been the first thing to come to mind, "are your eyes alright?"

Hinata caught her breath. "They'll be fine," she muttered lowly. "They need rest, from the light or from strain…Why do you ask?" she added hesitantly.

A grin curled his lips, "because I can't wait to see them." He heard her gasp and he laughed, wondering if he would be able to tell the difference between her fever and her blush.

At noon, they paused for a break. Kenta was worried that her breath was falling into short pants. She screwed her face up in pain as he settled her onto the ground. Her fever was raging over her skin again. "Kinuko-san," he called, crouching by her. He saw her eyes flutter under her blindfold. "May I have another Soldier Pill, please?"

Taking the pack from a pocket, he popped one into his palm. "It hasn't even been four hours, Kinuko-san." Placing it into her hand, she brought it to her lips without hesitation, taking a drink from the canteen he passed her.

"Was it poisoned? The weapon?" he asked, reaching for the edge of her shirt and lifting it up the slightest. Hastily, she slapped his hand away.

"I'm only checking," he calmed her, looking at the puckered scar with furrowed brow. It was red and swollen, but it seemed well on its way to healing. He didn't understand.

She shook her head, hair spreading beneath her in a crown and catching his attention. "I don't believe so. I think the…the _bullet,_" Hinata struggled with the strange word "is lodged in the bone."

Kenta inhaled sharply. "Why didn't you say it was one of those _guns_ that wounded you!"

"I thought the projectile had exited." Hinata passed her hand, glowing with chakra, over the site. Her brow creased and her lips thinned. "I don't have the precision to know if it remains or if it has only damaged the bone."

"Only," Kenta scoffed, gripping her wrist. He ignored her flinch. "I'm going to jutsu us closer to the village." Before his words had died, she felt the weight of gravity evaporate and then heavily pour over her again as the ground reappeared at her back. Her pulse quickened as she moved her head to the side, trying to observe where she was. The veiled outline of more trees stretched out in the daylight.

"You can see."

Turning her face sharply, she caught Kenta observing her carefully from his place beside her.

"If-if I need to," Hinata stuttered, looking away.

"So," He began with lips just curling, "what do you think?"

Hinata narrowed her eyes. _Think? About what?_ "What do you mean Kenta-san?"

Grinning fully, white teeth gleaming, he flicked his hand across his chest. "About me?"

Hinata's mouth fell open and a strained, astonished sound choked in her throat, "pardon?"

Sighing, Kenta stood from his place, speaking to her over his shoulder while he gathered the driest branches he could find. "I think you're pretty cute. Now you reciprocate and tell me how handsome you think I am."

Her lips fell closed tightly as she pondered four new facts. One, Kenta was boastful. Two, the pill was making her drowsy. Three, Kenta was coy. Four, Kenta thought she was pretty. Before she fell asleep, Hinata followed his movements with her eyes. As he leaned over a newly made fire, she admitted she liked his hair, which shone in the glow of the flames, and his back, which was broad, but not burly. She closed her eyes behind the blindfold, nearly falling into sleep to the crackle of wood burning and the dulled rhythm of her hip pulsing. Just on the border of slipping off, she startled when something cold and wet was placed over her forehead. Bringing her hands quickly to her face, she was stopped by Kenta's fingers gently pushing them back. "Shh. It's just something to cool you down." She relaxed marginally, tensing as he swept the cloth over her cheeks, her neck, and her lips-which were dry. The breeze rushed in to kiss her moistened skin and she felt a wonderful moment of contrast between hot and cold. The respite from her fever lasted mere seconds, but Kenta kept pouring water over the cloth and sweeping it across her red skin. She was asleep within an instant.

"You don't seem like a Kinuko," he told her when she woke.

Groggily, Hinata turned her eyes to him. His form was harder to make out in the fading sunlight. "What?" she whispered tiredly.

Kenta sat beside her, opposite of the fire. His legs were crossed before him, elbows propped over them and chin resting on his knuckles. He watched her curiously, face tilted. "Your name, it doesn't suit you."

Hinata took the canteen he'd set near her arm, sipping from it. Her eyes felt very tired and hot, as if she'd been reading for hours. And her whole body ached with deep heat. "My name is not really your concern, Kenta-san." Her words were soft and hesitant.

"I know, but really, _"silk? Child of silk?_" It's too," He trailed off for a moment, looking up at nothing in particular while he thought, "princess from the Tale of Genji."

"You have read Genji?" Hinata closed her eyes, wishing to sleep again.

Waving a hand, he nodded, "Yes. That's not the point. The point is, if you're going to pick a fake name, at least pick something good."

Hinata tilted her chin to him, setting him with a glance beneath her blindfold. "I had considered Hanabi."

Kenta snapped his finger. "That's better! You should have gone with that."

She turned her head away from him, watching the fire. "I would have, but it is my sister's name," Hinata did not tell him Hanabi had died only months ago. As it was, she was risking enough by giving him two authentic Hyuga names.

"Is she the youngest?"

Hinata nodded, feeling her hip throb sharply.

"I got a kid sister too. Her name's Hana and she's always crawling all over me. Once, she decided to collect snails, to save them from the gardener's pesticides, so she put them all in a box and…"

While he told his story, Hinata's lips curled upwards into a smile. She thought of Hana's pigtails and her box of snails. She thought of him coming home to an apartment crawling with them. She could tell from the way he spoke, that even though Hana was still a toddler, he was closer to her than she and Hanabi had been. She also thought about Naruto when she gleamed Kenta's cocky smiles or his mannerisms.

"You remind me of someone I knew once," she told him hesitantly after he finished.

Drawing an eyebrow up, he asked, "A good someone?"

"Yes." She ran her fingers over the cloth of her shirt. "Yes," she said more firmly, "a very good someone."

"Well, alright then." Kenta leaned back onto his palms, looking smug before his smile slipped and his brow narrowed. "Wait, this isn't someone you're hung up about, is it?"

Hinata blushed, tucking her chin into the crook of her neck. "N-no." _He was never mine to keep in the first place._

* * *

Between pockets of reluctant, shallow sleep, Sakura watched the sky darken from a grey blue to a velvet black and back again. The sun wavered over the horizon, a white smudge tempered by the haze of an overcast day. Moving her hand slowly from where she held an edge of the tent, she closed her eyes and startled awake suddenly.

"Kami," she whispered, rubbing her eyes. It was hard to keep them open and even harder to muster the urge to shift onto her side. With a groan, she propped herself onto an elbow and checked Sasuke's pulse. His heart was steady and strong, slow with sleep. It was his breathing, a rattling sound, that worried her. Sakura hovered over him, looking down at his face. His eyebrows rested gently over the dip of his eyes and his mouth was slightly agape. She touched a hand to his forehead, brushing aside his hair. Both it and his skin were smooth. He was warm enough for their circumstances and she sat back against the pallet. If her fingers dragged over his brow, or if she felt the wish to linger, she didn't indulge the thought long, only looking cross-eyed at the roof of the tent that rested over her nose.

Sakura huffed, untangling herself roughly, but quietly, from the covers and emerging into the frigid air of Snow Country. She gripped her elbows, tucking them into her stomach and bending at the waist, shaking and sputtering. "K-ka-kami," she bit through her teeth, "Ugh!" Stamping her feet, Sakura shook her hair, tucking up the collar of her shirt. One hasty glance over the landscape revealed white snow cut through with dimples of hills. She stirred the fire and turned, wanting to hide away under the tent when her prickled skin felt a different sort of chill. Sakura spun, picking up the faint trace of wild chakra. From its low crouch, the body of a white wolf grew seamlessly from the snow. It stood to its full height, thick, white fur pristine and indivisible against the backdrop of its world. Breath coming in short, visible pants, Sakura curled her frozen fingers into the holster at her hip. She pressed her fingers firmly into the icy metal of a shuriken, feeling pinpricks dot her skin where they touched.

The wolf and her shared a long gaze, in which neither moved. Its sharp blue stare observed her passively over the length of its snout, and she returned the look with wide, agitated eyes. One deceptively delicate paw moved forward. Sakura tensed as the animal drew nearer. When it was only two or three meters away, Sakura dug her foot into the snow behind her, thinking of the muscle hiding beneath the soft fur. In a moment, she sprang. But the wolf had sensed her shift, and took off rapidly, darting ably through the snow. It crossed immediately onto the frozen ice and Sakura stopped herself abruptly, resignation growing from the pit of her empty stomach. She watched the wolf slow from its run, look over its shoulder at her stagnant form, then settle into an easy trot. Her breath slowed and she sighed. At least now, she would not have to eat something so beautiful, of course, she wouldn't eat at all.

Slipping back under the blue tent, she found Sasuke still deep in sleep, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. She buried her nose deep into the crook of his neck, tangling her feet with his under the long since cold warming pad. He coughed in his sleep, back shaking. She swept her hands up and down his spine, trying to warm him, then, arms tucked into her chest, she huddled close. He smelled good, she noted dully, for a man whose most recent bath had been a dunk in frozen waters. "You smell good." She voiced aloud, confident he wouldn't hear. But his eyes, flicking open, were proof that he did. He stared solidly at the blue tent as she slept, poignantly aware of her form pressed firmly against his back.

* * *

Sakura sat up with a start, blinking rapidly as she gasped. She fell asleep! Grating her palms against her forehead, she squeezed her eyes shut. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ How could she have fallen asleep! What a stupid, irresponsible, rookie mistake. Turning, she was met with Sasuke's steady gaze. He was rolled onto his side, facing her.

"Hi," she said, moving to catch his hands. She looked over each finger, turning them this way and that, healing any frostbite she'd missed before.

"The good news," she said, removing his boots casually while he stared, "is that you still have ten toes and ten fingers." She frowned, gripping the edge of his foot. The smallest toe was turning black. "The bad news: I don't think that's going to last. You'll definitely be loosing this one." She pointed to it clinically.

Wordlessly, with a disinterested air, he shoved his socks and boots on, then stepped to herself, she followed him, wrapping the pallet around her shoulders. He was crouched in the snow, wearing her coat as he checked his own, rubbing the fur between his fingers.

"Is it dry?" she asked, stepping behind him to peer down at it.

Closing his fist over the coat, he shoved it to her. "No." The bear hide exterior and the soft interior, Sakura found, were damp and stiff with ice. "We'll make due." Sakura let the coat fall, shivering as she kneaded her hands together under the pallet. "At least it's warmer today." She shot a look at the sky overhead, clear for the first time and with a strong sun beating down pleasantly. "You can wear my coat and I'll use our rain slickers," feeling the harsh bite of the air, she added quickly, "and the pallet."

He had his back to her and stood still, looking out across the snow. A hesitant silence stretched between them. She watched him carefully, head tilting marginally. Was it something she said? "Sasuke?" she prodded the quiet.

Glancing at her over his shoulder, his face a blank canvas, he shrugged. "Fine," he picked his raincoat from the ground, finding it dry-as he'd expected. When he snapped his wrists harshly, the heavy cloth yelled in the wind, dropping crystalline shards and dusty snow. He did not meet Sakura's eyes-though she followed his mechanical actions with a steady stare-as he took the pallet from her frigid hands and tugged the coat over her shoulders. For the briefest of moments his mouth soured and his eyes darkened, but then, with less control than was usual for him, he dropped the pallet over her head, pulling it until she was thrown off balance and dragged a step a two.

Sputtering, Sakura struggled with the heavy pallet, yanking it off quickly, hair sticking every which way. Smoothing her fingers over her head, she looked at him with wide eyes, forgetting the inhuman temperature or the bumps prickling her flesh. He was bent over their tent, gathering the blue fabric to him hurriedly and messily. She was amazed. If his face hadn't shifted or if he hadn't used so much force, she would almost say that he'd been playful. "Why did you do that?" she asked, the first stirrings of anger rising in her. He was so inexplicable! Her lips curled downwards.

Sasuke shoved the tent into his pack, stubbornly turned away from her. Treacherous, dangerous, distracting. That's what she was. He knew, when his heart pounded as she looked up at him, that he was treading on shaky ground and it had made him angry. So angry that she held power over him. Standing too quickly, he saddled the pack onto his shoulder and set off.

"Where are you going!" she yelled after him, scrambling to pick up her own things-and whatever he'd forgotten.

He did not stop his steady pace, nor did he turn as he intoned flatly, "West."

"Son of a-" She hissed under her breath, dragging his coat spitefully behind her. She trailed his footsteps viciously, keeping his back in her view. When she was close enough, she pulled her arm back and threw the coat as far as she could. It wasn't nearly as aerodynamic or as sharp as she would have hoped-a dagger would have been better-but it was loaded down with enough ice to crumble solidly against him. It smacked against his back, hooking his head and pitching him forward. His scowl was vibrant against his lips as he jerked the heavy bear hide from his head.

With a triumphant smile, Sakura marched by him, lifting her feet high to lengthen her steps in the deep snow.

"Sakura," He growled between his teeth.

Looking over her shoulder, eyes wide and lips pursed in question, "Yes, Sasuke-_kun_?" she said innocently, mouth dissolving into a controlled smirk. She had the pleasure of catching his dumbfounded expression as she turned.

_That coy, little tease_. He glowered, picturing her face tilted over her shoulder with its coquettish smile and wide-eyed naivety. Despite the intense cold, his cheeks were warm and he felt livid all over again. Flaring his nostrils, he fisted his hands into the straps of his pack and followed behind her, that damnable look seared into his memory.

* * *

"Hey, Kinuko?"

Hinata tilted her head. A drum was pounding inside her skull and the ache in her bones was overshadowed by the fire licking her hip.

Kenta pressed a painkiller against her lips, lifting her head as he tipped back the canteen. Her skin was burning. "Come on, Kinuko, swallow." She winced as she did, turning away with a grimace. This was the fourth pill he'd given her today and still the fever and pain raged. Lifting her shirt, Kenta sucked in a breath. The scar she'd healed was blackening and he could see red mottles crawling up her torso.

"We're almost there," he told her, though she was swimming in and out of awareness. "Just hold on." Kenta made the symbols for a transportation jutsu, closing his eyes as the gravity and the world shifted around him. Quickly, the ground reemerged beneath him. He looked down at her, and setting his mouth into a grim line, picked her from the ground. A hoarse scream ripped from her lips. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but we need to get moving."

It took an hour of walking through more woods before he saw the smoke curling high into the sky. "We're here, Kinuko," he told her, smiling and looking at her wan face, sweat dampening her hair. The village, a tiny sprawl of wooden homes, came into view. Kenta walked through the only road, a dirt path that ran straight through the heart of it, from one end to the other. He spotted a roughly painted red cross over the wooden door of a clinic. The people on the street paused in their steps, watching him, some hiding their gasps behind their palms. A child, with brown eyes and hair, gapped at him. "Boy!" he called, "Run to the clinic and get your healer."

The boy stood unmoving, eyes wide. "Get!" he said loudly, "She needs a medic." The boy turned, tripping over his feet as he shot off. Finally, a villager approached him. "Come with me, please," she said, drying her hands on her apron. The heavy bucket she carried, filled with water, sloshed over her skirt. As they neared, a woman hurriedly opened the door. Her hair was cut close to her jaw, large, clear stones dangling from her ears. Behind her, the boy he'd sent clung to her legs.

"Come, quickly," she said, waving her hand to them. "Place her in the first cot."

The rough, wooden floor protested under him as Kenta rushed over the threshold. The inside of the clinic was a long, open room, filled with cheap cots and large windows. He set her over the white sheets. Her face twisted as she inhaled sharply. The blue curtain hanging from a track overhead was shut brusquely in his face. Kenta stepped away, falling into a nearby chair. From under the curtain, he saw the healer's feet while she moved, moments later he heard Kinuko's strangled cry. He stood abruptly, startling when a hand dropped over his shoulder. The woman who'd led him smiled gently. "She's only trying to help her."

"Gin!" The healer's voice rang out urgently and the woman hurried away, disappearing behind the curtain. The healer reemerged, wiping her wet hands on a small towel. "She's got blood poisoning, likely from something lodged in her wound. I'll prep her for surgery, but at this stage it's out of my hands."

Kenta's expression hardened. "Are you saying she's going to die?"

"That's a likely possibility."

* * *

They stood facing the Tsu Mountains. Off in the distance, the hazy peaks towered into the sky, a long wall running south to north. Explorers had never charted them this far and neither her nor him had any idea they were so extensive. The only reason they hadn't gone straight south again was to avoid them.

Sakura's pulse dropped. Lips parted, she exhaled from the depths of her chest. "H-How are we going to cross that?"

Sasuke was silent beside her, eyebrows settled into a straight line. _We cant_, he thought.

"It's too late to backtrack," she said, rubbing her hand over the icy skin of her forehead, adding up the kilometers they must have traveled in two weeks time, the hope they had of reaching Snow Country's westernmost border and heading down into warmer territory.

Turning, Sasuke began walking. "We'll head south." His stomach cramped at the prospect. Several weeks added to their stay in a country that barely had any game to be found.

Swallowing dryly, Sakura caught up with him quickly. "We need food," she reminded him, searching the white field. The traces of their last meal-a fox Sasuke had spotted with his sharingan days ago-had long since abandoned them and their quickmeal tablets could only be relied on for so much.

Holding back a cough within his lungs, Sasuke cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the unbearable itch crawling through his windpipe. "There's nothing." His coarse voice immediately caught her attention. Frowning, Sakura looked away from his face. "I know." The wet, hoarse sound of his cough finally broke through his tightly pressed lips and his shoulders shook with each rattling explosion of breath. He pushed her hand away when she rubbed his back, arching his spine and stifling his cough behind his palm.

"We need medicine, too." She observed quietly, letting her chakra sink through his skin. They both felt it flicker and waver, but she would not meet his stare when she dropped her hand.

A constant wind had picked up again, kicking the snow into swirls it dragged on tumultuously. Shoulders hunched, Sakura hiked beside Sasuke. They were up to their knees in snow, their steps slow and labored. She felt like she was moving through thick molasses. The exertion made their breaths fall in quick pants-his rattling from his chest-but despite the coats they wore or the pallets draped over them, no amount of work could warm them.

"Sasuke?"

"What?" he barked softly, struggling to pull the tent from their pack. The grey clouds swirling overhead and the quickening wind were signs of a bad storm coming. She gripped the opposite end of the blue cloth, stretching it taut. "If," _When,_ she nearly said, "things get bad, remind me to tell you something." Her eyes were downcast, focusing on her hands as she used a slim burst of chakra to stake the tent to the frozen ground.

He stilled, picking her words as he watched each flare of her weak chakra. He wanted to tell her not to waste it, but it would have been pointless and unlike him. They needed the shelter and they hadn't the tools to anchor the tent otherwise. He scanned the land, eyes red, flicking over tiny crevices previously unseen. A burst of triumph spread through him.

"There's a den." He nodded to it, and Sakura scrambled up beside him. "Where?" she asked, straining her eyes to see it. But he didn't answer her, only stooped to pull a kunai from his pack. She watched him cross to the place he'd pointed out-some distance away-stalking silently over the snow, using his chakra to remain quiet. He crouched at the entrance and bit his thumb. Lowering his arm to the ground, she watched a snake slither from his sleeve, disappearing into the den. Moments later, it reappeared dragging the struggling form of a hare with it. She saw Sasuke's hand flash to its neck, fingers wrapped tightly around it as he pushed it into the ground, swiping the kunai across the hare's throat. In its death throes, the hind legs twitched, thumping over the ground before they were still.

When he returned, she skinned it. The soft, white fur blossomed red with each cut, but even that could not make her forget her hunger or regret the kill. "Everything here is white," she commented offhandedly, to distract herself from the slippery blood staining her hands, "even that fox you caught."

Sasuke prepped a pan, glancing at her. One of her hands was up to its wrist inside the hare's carcass, pulling out entrails she threw into a second pan. He remembered a time when Sakura wouldn't dare touch any of the kills team Kakashi made.

"I wonder what Naruto would say," she continued, carefully extracting the gall bladder. "Maybe he wouldn't be too surprised, what with the Kyuubi." Her hand stilled suddenly and his head snapped up, gaze intent on her wide eyes.

"The Kyuubi," he repeated as she continued her work, smoothing her face into a pleasant smile. "What about it?" she asked lightly.

"What happened to the Kyuubi after Naruto died?"

"Sasuke," she looked at him over her shoulder, speaking in a calm, factual voice, "I'm sure you know what happens to a tailed beast when its host dies."

She felt his gaze burn into her back when she turned away. Silence fell over them. She took the hare by the hind legs, walking over to Sasuke and placing it in the pan by his feet. There, she removed the organs they could eat and cut the meat into small cubes. "Are you going to sit there all day, or should I do the honors?" her eyebrow tilted high, "although you have much better control of fire, so if you don't want your hare burned, I think you should take care of it."

Sasuke had the strong suspicion that Sakura was lying, but he took the pan from her outstretched hand wordlessly. Digging his boot in the snow, he cleared a hole straight to the frozen ground. Throwing away the disposables, he set the pan in the pit and stepped back. With a controlled if wheezy breath, he shot a billowing stream of white-hot fire at it, keeping it steady for as long as his breath held. Once his hand dropped from his mouth, he caught the smell of cooked meat, smoke and steam viciously snatched in the wind. Quickly, Sakura pulled the pan away. It had already begun to cool. They devoured the meal in silence, picking the squares of meat with their fingers, the cobwebs in their stomachs falling away. With reluctant control, they wrapped a third of their meal in an old, shiny wrapper. Several of the leftovers were stored away too. "We might be able to get some marrow from the bones," Sakura said, packing them away. They'd have some crummy dinners for the next two days, but it would be something.

As the sun dipped, Sakura and Sasuke crawled into the tent, feeling the temperature drop as the wind grew into a gale. It seemed they would face the worst of the storm during the night. Sakura spread her pallet over the tent's floor, feeling the frozen ground crawl through all her layers to dig mercilessly within her flesh. Behind her, Sasuke coughed long and loud. She thought about the pronounced bruises under his eyes-which had only worsened since she'd noticed them in Konoha-and the vertebrae of his spine sticking out from his skin. The weight he had lost was frightening and she wondered if she looked as haggard as him. Pressing her hand to her ribcage, she cast the thought aside. Though she felt thinner and was sure she'd be able to play her fingers over the ridges of her ribs, Sasuke's weight loss had to have started long before their mission. "Have you been skipping meals?" she asked so suddenly that Sasuke lifted himself on one elbow to look at her. "Are you fucking series?" he said lowly, tempted to point a hand at the door of their tent, where a frozen wasteland lay waiting.

Curling tighter into herself, to ward of the cold, she amended, "I meant before the mission. Back in Konoha." His gaze grew serious, and he fell flat on his back. "Go to sleep, Sakura."

"What did you find?"

His face snapped to her.

Sakura turned, meeting his stare solidly. "I'm not stupid, Sasuke," she began, carefully choosing her words, "You had documents from your clan spread all over your apartment and you were-you were-" She shook her head, sitting up as best she could with the tent's low ceiling touching her back. "Everyday that passed, Sasuke, I could see you changing. Your stance, your attitude, your chakra, they were settling, like you were finally, finally finding peace, or balance, or whatever," she ended awkwardly, waving her hand before her. "But that night-at the market-you were gone. You looked just like you did when I found you outside your family's home." At his silence, she prompted, "Do you remember?"

How could he forget? Crushing his coat within his grip, he pressed his lips tightly together, and turned onto his side, away from her.

She grabbed his shoulder angrily, but he snatched her wrist, pressing his fingers harshly into her skin until he saw her teeth bite into her lip.

"I know I never knew your mother," she said after he'd released her and his breath hitched in his throat, "but I've only ever heard good things about her, and from what Naruto told me, you spoke highly of her."

He felt a moment of resentment surge within him. His grip over his coat increased. How dare Naruto spread his words, shared in confidence.

"If you loved her Sasuke, then think about her before you do anything stupid. Think about what Uchiha Mikoto would want for her son. I know it isn't the life you've led until now."

He inhaled deeply through his nose, hearing it wheeze through his chest as his shoulders rose. His mother's face flickered in his view. He felt Sakura lay a tentative hand against his shoulder. When he remained still, she huddled closer, and whispered into his neck. "Make her proud of you, Sasuke."

_I can't_. He thought bitterly. _But I can kill the men who made me this way._

* * *

Author's Note:

So, Karen's gone. It was a difficult decision to make and I struggled with it for a while, especially since I actually liked her older self. I hope it won't terribly disappoint. Let me know what you think.


	21. Day 604: The Kokie

**Auther's Note:**

To answer some reviewer's questions & comments:

1. The changes were made to chapter 8, _The Tributary_. Because of the prologue at the beginning of the story, the chapter appears as number 9 in fanfiction's chapter guide. However, it is actually chapter 8, parts I & II (so chapters 9 and 10 if you follow fanfiction's guide).

2. Glad to hear positive feedback about Karin.

3. Especially glad to hear no one was too annoyed by the changes to _The Tributary_ chapter.

4. As to why Sasuke, Hinata, Shika, and Sakura didn't just K.O. their followers, it just made sense at the time. Of course, as one's writing, everything seems to make sense, so looking at it from an outside perspective, I can see how this might be a flaw in design. I can only say that the team was following a guideline of maintaining minimal contact with the enemy. Tsunade had hoped for a clean recon with zero ties back to Konoha.

5. And finally, thanks for all the reviews with kind encouragements and questions.

As always, dedicated to the reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter 16, Day 604**

**The Kokie**

Her hands, glowing a translucent, wavering green, swept over his chest. She felt his skin underneath her fingertips, smooth and feverish. Sweat gathered on her forehead, rolling from her temples to her chin. Her eyes were scrunched tightly together, breath coming in short gaps. The light gloving her hands flickered, fluttered, and was gone-like a flame snuffed gently in the wind. With a quick inhale, Sakura fell foreword, gasping. Her brow touched Sasuke's arm and her hands lay flat over his chest while her back heaved. White lights flickered in her vision, the pallet beneath her narrowing with black as vertigo washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the feeling to pass.

Sasuke remained still. From her place, she could hear all the more clearly the sound of his breath, like the clattering of seeds within a hollow gourd. She pushed herself upright, minding both the tent's ceiling and her weight against him. Her hands shook as she drew his undershirt, his shirt, his rain slicker, and then his fur overcoat closed. The upper flap of the pallet, as she tugged at it, was stuck beneath him and she had to struggle to pull an end free, throwing it over him, before tucking it carefully around and under. She stuffed both their spare shirts around his chest. He shivered despite it. The marriage of his sunburn-she had one, too-and his pale, dry skin sired grim results. Combing back his black hair, greasy and dirty, she tipped a canteen to his lips. Until they could make fire again, or melt the snow through other means, this was the last of their water.

Sasuke groaned in his fitful rest, turning his lips away. Sakura wiped the spilled water quickly from his chin, tucking the canteen under her. Teeth clattering, she gripped her pallet with uncertain, shaky fingers, digging herself into Sasuke's back. Outside, the wind howled, a sharp, keening sound like the wailing of a wolf. It's lament swept over their tent, clawing at the cloth and rocking the ceiling. She watched the flexible skeleton overhead snap violently from side to side. Beneath the pallet, she flexed her fingers, but couldn't tell if she had. When she brought her palm up to her face, closing it into a fist. Her fingers-cyanic in color-responded, curled into themselves, brushed her skin, bit into her palms, but she did not feel them. She watched in detached fascination as her nails scored her skin. Pinpricks needled her. Tucking her hands beneath her armpits, she turned her head into Sasuke's shoulder. When she curled her toes within her boots, she found she couldn't feel them either. It was childish, she thought, to be worried about frostbite. At this point, she should be worried about never waking again.

"Sasuke," she whispered hoarsely.

His uneven pants answered her, brow smooth in sleep. She dropped her head heavily against his shoulder. She wasn't sure how long she slept, but she was woken by a shoulder nudging her temple. Her eyelids, weighing more than the Hokage Monument, peeled open. Blearily, she focused on Sasuke's bloodshot gaze. His head was angled towards her, eyes hooded with weariness.

"Wha-" She croaked, closing her eyes again.

His voice, when he spoke, was hard to hear, hoarse as it was. "How long have I slept?"

Sakura sifted slowly through her brain. He'd gotten worse after their last substantial meal-over six days ago-and had only gone down hill since. "A day." She tucked her chin into her neck, curling her knees and burrowing under him. Her bones ached. He didn't protest, or even move for that matter.

"Any food?" he asked.

Her stomach cramped painfully, gnawing at her skin from the inside out. She wondered if all the aches and weariness came from her body eating itself up. Nearly a month of running through snow had trimmed fat and muscle. "No," she breathed, eyes still closed, trailing the footsteps of sleep.

A loud, racking cough erupted from him and the force of it shook his shoulders. Her head slipped to the ground.

"I ran out of chakra," she told him, after he'd calmed. _I can't do anything for you anymore. _"Can you," she faltered. Her silence pressed him to urge her, "What?"

"You still have chakra, right?"

"Yes."

"Can you summon some snakes?"

The thought filtered through his mind, a warning ringing. His brow wrinkled, "What?"

"To eat," she confessed, still keeping her head mostly beneath the pallet.

Sasuke's wheezing breath filled the silence. "Are you insane?" he finally asked, glaring. Her head shook. "No," she said, staring back at him. "It's been two days, Sasuke, since we've eaten anything. The quikmeals are gone, too." His breath rasped through his open mouth, scratching the back of his throat as it rattled into his chest. He moistened his cracked lips and swept his gaze over her pale face with its blue, dry lips. Her cheekbones were gaunt, sunken like the bruises under her eyes. "We won't last long like this" Sakura prodded. And he knew they wouldn't.

"What about your slugs?"

"No chakra," she reminded him, as if she'd already thought about it.

He shuffled around-she felt the brief flare of his chakra-and then he was strangling the life of a snake with his fist. It hissed in betrayal, slithering desperately in the air before coiling strongly around his wrist. She watched him drop it between them with some level of repulsion. Pulling a kunai from her holster, Sakura pushed herself onto her elbows, searching for a pan through their things. His gaze never once left her as she cut the head from the body, skinned, gutted, and chopped. She bit her lip through the ordeal, feeling nausea rise in her at her callousness, the raw reality of their meal, and her nevertheless raging hunger. She pushed the pan to him. "We'll have to eat it as is," she explained shortly, "your fire jutsu is best left for other things." Her fingers gripped-unfeeling-a slab of pink meat, slipping over the blood. Her heart beating, she brought it to her mouth. The smell made her hold her breath and she scrunched her face as it slid over her tongue. Swallowing, the lump descended down her esophagus heavily. She fisted her hands in her pallet as she felt every inch of its journey. She gagged once, hunched into herself, and worked through it. When she was able to look up, Sasuke was staring at her. Shame rose in her, and she averted her gaze. "It's not so bad," she lied, catching as he scowled at the pan, as if blaming her for the mutilated body of his summoning. Without sitting, he dropped his hand wearily in the pan, picking a chunk that he swallowed as naturally as if he were eating sashimi. Between them, they polished off the entire meal, bloody hands wiped carelessly over their pallets.

Sakura stored the pan in a corner of their tent, eying it warily. First genin rule of the wild: never gut your food in camp, much less leave its mess behind. So much for that. "Sasuke," she called, turning to him as he was near sleep. His chest rose sporadically, breaths short, fast, and uneven. He did not answer, but she continued nevertheless. "I want to tell you something."

When she looked up again, his eyes were open, trained on hers. She dropped her gaze, pulse wrenching within her, churning her icy blood into slush. She sent a prayer to the kami, _Please, don't let this be a mistake. _As she began, teeth clattering softly, she assured herself that they were close enough to death to warrant a gentler response from him. "The night of the Lantern Festival, I sneaked into ANBU's archives. I stumbled onto the Uchiha records." She felt him tense beside her. Peeking, she caught his stare, bright with fever, but solid and lucid. "I read-" shaking her head, Sakura pressed closer into him. "You have to understand, before I say anything, that your brother was a sick man, Sasuke. I've had access to his medical history, and from a professional standpoint," she continued, speaking lowly, "he was…mentally unfit for service. But he had a ridiculously pristine military record and his success rate was unparalleled, so people turned the other cheek."

Sasuke crushed his coat within his hands, staring straight up at the ceiling, his breathing hitched.

"The night of the festival, I found out something, but I can't tell you until you give me your word Uchiha Sasuke."

The world spun. "What word?"

Rising on her elbow, Sakura loomed over his vision. He was forced to focus on her. "Swear to me by the blood of your family," his scowl blossomed across his face, "that you won't kill anyone, or do some other stupid thing, or leave Konoha." _Not that it's likely we'll ever see Konoha again_, she thought grimly, looking down at him with somber, intense eyes.

Sasuke stared at her without blinking, her green gaze boring into his, pink hair falling from its unruly braid to frame both their faces. The urge to lie was strong. "I won't promise you anything." She fell back beside him, sighing as she curled herself under the pallet. "I had a feeling you'd say that. But I-" She swallowed thickly, mind racing a million thoughts ahead of her. What if she pushed him to do whatever stupid thing he'd been plotting? She inhaled deeply, feeling the cold air sweep mercilessly into her chest. He'd find out eventually, she thought, these sorts of truths always manage to find him. "I think you should know, despite how you may react. That night, I read that the Uchiha were planning to overturn Konoha's government, to begin a civil war. An order, from Konoha's council, was issued to attack the Uchiha clan beforehand." She looked up at him. His face remained blank, black eyes staring steadily away, mouth relaxed. "I think the Uchiha clan was killed on orders because they were trying to launch a coup." She couldn't plainly state that Itachi had been the man ordered to do it, though it was clear enough. Her muscles tensed, expecting him to fly from his pallet, to start screaming, throwing, hitting. But he remained utterly still, breath falling in its same wheezing rhythm.

"Sasuke?" she asked, voice soft, soothing. Looking at him, her brow narrowed. Her next words were whispered. "Are you-are you alright?"

A long silence descended, in which Sasuke averted his head. His calm gave it away. "You knew," she said incredulously. Touching his shoulder, she leaned closer, seeking his gaze. "You knew."

His black eyes stared back at her hollowly and his mouth remained closed as hers gaped. She caught her gasp in her hands. _Kami._ Did he kill his brother knowing that? No, no, she thought, remembering his recent behavior. "You found out before we left." Turning away from his gaze, she fell back into her pallet.

"How much do you know?"

Finally his voice, controlled, broke through calmly. "You first."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As if anything else she added could be as telling. "I know that the Third had nothing to do with it."

"Oh?" The word fell humorlessly from his mouth.

"He didn't want a massacre, Sasuke. The council operated without his consent. I also know," here she stopped to watch him carefully, "that Itachi was certifiably insane to have complied."

She just caught the flicker in his pupil, the tightening of the skin around his eyes and mouth. The spike in his chakra was more obvious. "You have no right to blame him."

As if she were handling a tailed beast, Sakura spoke gently, but firmly, "I'm not denying that they took advantage of your brother. I'm not saying he's responsible, but he's not blameless either. It took more than the council to murder them." She watched his jaw strain. "Would you have done it?" she asked, trying to throw him.

His gaze flashed to her angrily.

Her heartbeat picking up, Sakura met his eyes solidly. "Would you have killed your family to preserve peace and prevent civil war?"

"Of course not!" he snarled, swaying as he rose onto an elbow. She felt his chakra crash into her like a wave.

"Exactly."

His brow, lowered over his eyes and framing his scowl, smoothed. His face blanked quickly, like turning a light on and off. With cautious movements, Sakura placed her palm over his fist, squeezing softly. "He killed his family, Sasuke. Whether for the right or wrong reasons is irrelevant. What matters is that Itachi massacred his _entire_ family." The rasping sounds of his breath picked up speed. "No normal man, however patriotic or peace-loving, would do that."

Beneath her palm, she felt his fingers curl into the pallet. Taking a risk, she cupped his jaw lightly with her free hand. It was a brief touch, which she ended when he turned his face away. "Your brother did love you, and I think he loved his closest family. But his work destroyed him, Sasuke, and what he did, illness or no, is inexcusable."

Pulling away from her, he observed her with flat eyes. "And is the council excusable, Sakura-_sensei_?"

She held her anger. "I'm not trying to patronize you, Sasuke. And no, the council isn't excusable, they took advantage of a sick man to destroy an entire clan. Neither party is without blame, neither the council for getting bloodthirsty, nor your brother for shedding the blood, nor your clan for inciting the bloodshed."

An interminable hush swept through the tent, dragging icy fingers between them. Sasuke's loud rasps were interrupted only by the howl of the wind. He shifted in his pallet, stomach and head whirling.

"Sasuke, I told you this because I wanted to make it easier for you not to hate your brother, not because I wanted you to torture yourself about his death. You killed the man that killed your family and ruined your childhood. Orders or no, he was insane, what he did to you was insane. He was no martyr."

His voice was strained when he cut through her words. "That's enough."

Shame shot through her. Looking at the back of his head, she pulled the pallet higher over his shoulder. "I'm-I'm sorry. I'm just afraid of what you'll do." She finished quietly, tucking herself into his back.

"Why did you tell me?" His hoarse voice asked her between breaths.

"I already said why-"

"Why risk it?" He clarified.

Touching her forehead to his neck, Sakura stared at the pallet, straining to focus on the separate threads woven together into one strand. "Because I think it would have been worse if you'd heard this from anyone else."

He coughed, something of a laugh, shoulders heaving and unsettling her. He wheezed quietly, clutching the fabric over his chest. "Who else," he spoke through the phlegm in his throat, prodding, "would know?"

Though his voice was casual, as if he were making a sarcastic remark rather than asking a genuine question, it held a prying undertone that made her brow lift. "No one but the council, I think. Why?" she finished, voice raising suspiciously.

His silence prompted her. "Sasuke, how did you find out?"

It was an easy enough thing to lie when he truly wanted to. Feeling the iced air slipping through the cloth of their tent, he replied dully, "An old teammate."

"Oh." Sakura's head slumped down again, but her mouth remained pressed in a crooked line. Something was off. "You're not going to do something stupid, are you?

"Sasuke," she prompted, trying to read the words of his silence, "Kakashi and me, we can help you with the council."

His head tilted marginally as the words made his eyes narrow. Sakura, help him kill the council? But her train of thought, he found, was treading in a vastly different direction.

"Between Tsunade and Kakashi and the proof we can bring, you can expose the council. What they did was genocide, it was beyond corruption, and they'll be punished. Besides, Mitokada's already dead and once this comes out his memory will be sullied. There's no need to bloody your hands with one old woman-" Suddenly, her words faltered and Sasuke could hear the hitch in her breath, could almost feel the rapid pounding of her heart as her mind snapped the pieces into place. He tightened his hands into fists.

"You killed him." She pushed away from him roughly when he didn't respond. Slowly, he turned on his side to face her, setting her with calm eyes and a mouth bordering between an empty line and a smug curl. She stared at him with wide eyes that soon narrowed. "Did you kill Mitokada?"

The smirk broke through his flat mask. "And if I did?"

That stupid smile infuriated her. Face twisting with rage she smacked her hands against her pallet to keep from flying at him. "You idiot!" She yelled. "You're one fucking offense away from execution and this is what you do!" She wanted to march out of the tent, but it was too cold to do so. Hiding her face in her hands, she took a deep breath through her fingers. Her voice was flatter when she spoke. "Did you at least cover it up right?"

His eyebrow hitched up.

"Sasuke!" she prompted, gritting her teeth.

The dark color of his eyes watched her carefully, reading the lines of her face. Sarcasm seeped into his tone. "What? You're not going to turn me in?"

Her jaw clenched and she chewed on the inside of her cheek, looking at him solidly with an unwavering gaze. "_I've_ never tried to kill you. Why start now?"

The upward tilt of his lips fell instantly. The brief memory of his sword narrowly missing her flared brightly in his mind. He looked away casually, tightening his lips. "He had a heart attack."

"Did he?"

"With some help from the sharingan."

Looking at him incredulously, she bit off testily, "You scared him to death?"

"Hn." His chest heaved as he coughed, eyes scrunching closed. Clearing his throat, he said dully, "All he had to do was believe he was having a heart attack, and then he did…after some convincing."

Sakura groaned. "Kami," she muttered under her breath. "Well, you did a great job, scared him through and through." She finished, remembering Tsunade's doubts.

The storm worked restlessly outside and Sakura ducked under her pallet again. She let silence slip between them. Pursing her lips, she told him: "I won't let you kill the councilwoman."

A broken, rattling laugh erupted from him, shaking his back. He sounded amused. "And how are you going to stop me?"

Sakura was ready for his question. She'd already worked through it. "When we get to Konoha-"

"If," he dropped nonchalantly. She continued as if he hadn't interrupted her.

"-I'll get a warrant from Tsunade to unlock the archives. Then she'll have the evidence she needs to act. The councilwoman will live out her days rotting in a cell, miserable, isolated, caged, and forgotten. Isn't that enough for you?"

When Sasuke didn't answer, Sakura whispered into her pallet, "You gave up everything for their memory, Sasuke. You destroyed a part of yourself for them." She searched for his hand under the covers. It was tense and curled into a fist he didn't release even as her palm slid over it. "It's enough, Sasuke. It's enough."

* * *

Hinata opened her eyes dazedly. A filmy fog covered her view. Blinking thrice, it cleared, revealing a plain, arched, wooden roof. She turned her head slowly, groaning under her breath. She was stiff, as if she hadn't moved in days. The smell of disinfectant hit her as she took in the empty cots filling the narrow room. Bright sunlight spilled over her feet from the windows. Her privacy curtain was drawn part-way. Beneath it, the four legs of a wooden chair and two dusty, sandaled feet peeked at her. She recognized the shoes, and hurriedly-with quiet, cautious movements-she grabbed the strip of cloth she saw resting on a bedside table. Unraveling it, she fastened it over her eyes, noting the flowery waft of detergent as it passed her nose. It had been washed. A spring in the mattress must have alerted her guard, for in the next moment a hand drew away the curtain impatiently. Kenta's curious face caught the jerk of her head as she faced him. A smile, distinguishable in the bright light, bloomed across his face.

"Look who's up." He grinned. "About time, too." Noting the blindfold, he asked, "Your eyes still bothering you?"

She was surprised when her voice filled the space hoarsely and weakly. Clearing her throat, she spoke again, still in soft, dry tones, "A little."

Kenta grabbed the glass and pitcher on her nightstand, pouring fresh, clear water. His arm slipped underneath her neck, he helped her take small sips. It was cool, and she was grateful as the water ran over her parched lips, tongue, and throat.

"Chilled in the river," he told her as she sighed.

Blushing, Hinata thanked him. "Where are we, Kenta-san?"

Kenta set the glass over her nightstand and pulled his chair closer, dragging it from behind the curtain with a scraping sound. "We're in Siri. It's a tiny village near Cloud."

Hinata's heart thudded loudly in her chest as her eyes darted to his face. She hoped he couldn't detect her stare or hear the sudden pitch of her pulse. "How long have we been here?" Her words flowed with the same weary curiosity she'd maintained before.

"Two days. You've slept through our entire visit." He reclined, stretching his legs out before him and tucking his arms behind his head. "Shame, really," he added, "they actually have decent sake here."

With a barely detectable curl to her lips, Hinata smoothed her hands over the hospital sheets. "I do not think I am in any condition for alcohol, Kenta-san."

He snorted. "After blood poisoning and an emergency surgery, I don't know who would be."

At his words, Hinata's fingers went to her hip, where a vague pain thrummed dully. She winced and gasped sharply when they came into contact. The flesh was tender and her gentle probe felt like it reached down to the bone. Kenta's hand shot out, gripping her wrist and pulling it back. "Easy," he warned, "that'll be sore for another few days."

"Was it the bullet?"

Kenta smiled grimly, rummaging through a pocket on his flap jacket. Between his fingers, he held a deformed metal casing. "There's your problem," he told her as she reached for it.

He dropped it into her palm, and she observed it with disbelief. "It's so small."

"Frightening, isn't it?" he asked, sharing both her line of sight and her train of thought. "That little shit can kill any one of us."

* * *

Ino twisted the doorknob to their apartment. In one hand she carried a brimming bag of groceries-milk, eggs, grapes, tea-and in the other she carelessly gripped the bunched stems of three blue hydrangea, against which, pressed beneath her thumb, was a pack of Shika's favored cigarettes. She heaved the groceries onto the counter and settled the flowers beside them. Walking between counter and fridge, she put everything away, except the tea, which she stowed in a cabinet above the teapot that waited on the stove. She rummaged through a drawer for her chunky, kitchen scissors, then found a vase under the kitchen sink. Slicing through the brown paper wrapping, she worked mechanically to put things in order. The sound of crinkled paper filled the empty apartment as she peeled it away from the hydrangea, then used the scissors to cut the stems at an angle, as her mother had taught her. She barely glanced at the pack of cigarettes, lying innocuously in her line of sight. In all their time together, she never encouraged Shika's smoking. She never so much as tolerated it. Arranging the flowers into a tall, clear vase, she thought she'd let him smoke all he wanted. At least for the first month after his return. Then she'd cut him off again. But for the first month, she'd indulge and pamper him and tell him to pollute their sweet-smelling apartment with his noxious fumes. She just wanted him with her.

Setting the vase in the very center of their small dinning table, Ino took a step back to observe the result. Tilting her head to the side, she found the flowers were perfectly centered and complimented the kitchen's coloring. She turned, went to march down the hall, but returned to grab the box of cigarettes and walk into the living room instead. It was dark, and only the straining tendrils of the strong afternoon sun lit the room through the closed shutters. She hated when the shutters were drawn, but it was usually Shika who opened them in the mornings before she woke. Dropping the cigarettes over the coffee table, she walked to the window, pulling it open and reaching to push out the shutters.

"I didn't know you smoked."

Her heart leaped up to her brain as she spun around wildly, one hand over her pounding chest and the other wrapped tightly over a shuriken. Then the voice registered, she dropped both arms, shuriken falling to the ground as she tackled her boyfriend.

He was lying passively on the couch, one forearm outstretched over his eyes where he'd placed it casually after observing her, as if sleeping. Except Ino landed with such force and weight against him that both his hands stretched out to catch her as he grunted and shied away from a knee too close to his groin.

He was about to reprimand her for mauling him, when he felt the skin of his neck moisten. Then she started wailing, crying loudly and messily. His hand wound over her back and he tightened his hold. "I'm fine," he hummed into her ear. Her fingers curled into his hair and she pushed herself against him. "I thought," she sputtered around her heaving gasps and cries, "I thought you were-" The word hung unsaid between them. "They said you were M.I.A." Her fierce hug grew fiercer even as her crying gentled and then Ino's arms relaxed around him and she leaned softly against him. "No one would tell me anything. No one knew anything." She sniffed loudly, rubbing her hand under her nose. Shikamaru smoothed his palm over her hair, threading his fingers through the silky strands, which were uncharacteristically loose-she liked to be contrary and often wore her hair up because he preferred it down. Gripping her jaw, he pushed her back gently. Her mascara painted black paths over her cheeks and the underside of her nose was wet. "You look atrocious."

Her eyes flashed and she smacked him across the head. "Fuck you," she growled, clambering off him. With a 'tsk,' he pulled her back to the couch and kissed her messy cheek, her jaw, the edge of her mouth, and finally, her lips.

"Troublesome," he said, drawing back. Ino smiled, half-laughing, half-crying. They sat together for some time, the breeze and the sunshine coming in through the open window. "Welcome home," she said at last. He grunted a reply, reaching for the cigarettes on the table. She watched him as he peeled away the wrapping, opened the box, and pulled one out, taking it between his teeth. "Thinking of me?" he said around the butt of the cigarette, grabbing Sensei Azuma's lighter. Ino made a noise of denial, tilting her chin up and away. Before he could light up, she took the lighter from him, leaving him with an outstretched hand and a dull cigarette drooping from his lips.

"Not inside the house," she told him by way of answer.

"Then why'd you buy them?" he pulled the cigarette away, throwing it haphazardly onto the table.

"Because I thought you were dead. But now you're not, so rules still apply."

He said something that sounded suspiciously like _"Damn man can't smoke in his own damn house,"_ but died away under the press of her lips against his. She whispered _"I love you's"_ over and over again, spreading them across the scruff of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the underside of his neck, and the swell of his cheek. The nagging itch for a smoke was quickly forgotten.

"Did you go to the hospital?"

The rising heat she'd stirred dimmed and he pulled away from her mouth with a sigh. She rested her chin on his shoulder. "No." He dropped his hand over her knee, fingers whispering over her skin. "I went straight to headquarters, got a brief physical before debriefing, and was released."

After a long silence, in which she played with the end of his ponytail, she asked, "Do you think Sakura's ok?"

His brow remained smooth as he stared sightlessly at the ceiling in thought. "Sakura was with Sasuke. We both know how resilient he is."

"And Hinata?"

"I can't say," he told her.

Ino hid her face against the side of his neck. Her voice wavered when she spoke again, a deep-hearted earnestness painting her words, "I'm so glad you're home."

* * *

In that instant, she'd never seen a color as beautiful. Green, kilometers and kilometers of green painted over the horizon. Her breath caught in a laugh that grew into a sob. _Thank you, thank you, _she thought, closing her eyes. The frigid wind scraped over her cheeks and she felt needles explode viciously across her fingers as she tightened her grip. They weren't safe yet, but soon. The promise gave her strength. Panting-white clouds waxing and waning before her-she pulled the tent's blue cloth. Sakura cast a look over her shoulder; Sasuke was bundled in both his coats, two pallets, and their extra clothing, sleeping feverishly on the litter she'd fashioned. "We're almost there," she told him, though he wouldn't hear her, "just hold on."

When the shade of the tall pine forest finally fell over them, Sakura tumbled to her knees. She screwed up her face, yelping as her fingers painfully unfurled from their grip. Shakily, she brought them to her face, turning her palms up. A variety of shades colored her skin, blue, purple, and at the very ends of her fingertips, a deep grey. She curled her fingers slowly, biting on her chapped lip when pricks of pain cut through her. At least she still had feeling, she told herself. Pushing aside the thought of lost fingers, she struggled to her feet, starting her search for firewood. In a frenzy, she ripped brittle, broken limbs from the surrounding trees, shaking them free of snow and hoping they were dry enough. She couldn't register their rough bark pressing into her hands.

Clearing a pit of snow with her foot, she dropped her pile haphazardly, falling down beside them as she fumbled with leaden fingers for their fire kit. Delicately arranging the kindling, she grabbed the tiny bottle of fire fluid. Her numb fingers slipped dumbly over the red cap and she had to use her teeth to pry it open. Squirting a sparse amount over the wood near the kindling, she recapped the bottle. The terrible tang of the fire fluid settled over her tongue. Smacking her mouth, she gripped the flint. One of the stones fell from her clumsily. Shaking, she brushed snow away from it, tightening her fingers over it viciously before striking the stones against each other. Sparks flew away from them, scattering like fallen stars over the kindling. One spark caught, an ember burn that burst into a flickering speck of flame with drifting plumes of smoke. She hovered over it, shielding it from straying winds and gently blowing. The fire spread tentatively, tendrils probing experimentally at new sources of fuel. The heat clashed against the frigid temperature of her skin and she moaned. Quickly she pulled Sasuke nearer, then set about laying large stones near the fire and boiling water. When a frothy layer of bubbles had settled over the water, she carefully brought the pot near her, sitting over a bed of branches. Removing the rags she'd used to handle the pot, she hooked her hands under Sasuke's arms, settling his head over her lap as she pulled the second pallet from him and struggled to drape it over them. The steam from the boiling water filled the space quickly, trailing warm, moist kisses over their skin. Sasuke's chest moved up and down slowly, releasing terrible, wet, rattles. Brushing his hair away from his face, she moved closer to the pot, making sure the steam drifted by his face.

She wondered if he would be okay, if such a simple remedy could even help at this point. _Naruto_, she prayed silently, _watch over him. _She dumped hot stones into the water whenever the steam cooled, being careful to keep the draft out of their warm bubble. Between helping Sasuke breathe through coughing fits, keeping watch over the fire and the water, replacing rocks, and rubbing soothing circles over Sasuke's back, she battled weariness, her head drooping forward onto her chest or Sasuke's shoulder. It was Sasuke who sometimes woke her with his nightmares. Sakura would touch his forehead, brush his hair, and whisper to him when it happened. Eventually, his tossing would slow and the noises he made in the back of his throat would end. She tried to imagine the landscape of his mind, pictured darkness and death and blood and suffering and the red eyes of his brother. Leaning into him, she touched her forehead to his. His breath fluttered warmly over cheekbone. "It'll be okay," she whispered.

Sakura waited patiently for their space to gradually cool. Unlocking her limbs, she crawled out from under the pelt, sweating and panting. The freezing air struck her like a blow. She tucked the pallet around Sasuke, entombing him in a swath of fabric that revealed only his pale, handsome face. The sound of a branch breaking snagged her attention. Gripping the hilt of Sasuke's sword, she tensed, searching the trees. As she was sliding the metal from its sheath, a child slipped through the nettles of the evergreens. A girl, wrapped in thick coats and heavy boots froze upon seeing her. Her gloved hand crushed the nettles in her hand and her wide, black eyes stared from a perfectly round face with caramel skin, a button nose, and red cheeks. The gap in her smile disappeared behind her lips.

Sakura sheathed the naked blade in her hand, holding it at her side. "Hello."

The little girl took a step back, turning to glance over her shoulder as bells jingled in the distance, their intensity growing with their encroaching proximity. A low sleigh, drawn by two large caribou, appeared. At the helm of pelts and pots and tightly wrapped wooden crates, sat a thin woman, similarly dressed. Her black hair fell in straight hanks through the soft fur of her hood and her face was majestic, slightly oval, with pronounced cheekbones and stunning blue eyes in contrast to her rich skin and hair.

Sakura edged closer to Sasuke under the woman's unwavering gaze. Those blue eyes flicked casually to his form, then back to hers. "He is ill," her voice, smooth, and elegant, was accented thickly. But it took nothing away from her regality, "and you are lost," she finished, chin tilted high.

"Ninik." She called, catching the child's attention. Foreign words fell from her lips gracefully and immediately, the child scrambled onto the sleigh beside her. Her gloved hand extended from under her parka, settling on the child's shoulders. "What is your name, lost one?"

"Imari," Sakura lied easily, "and this is my companion, Ken." Her tense muscles loosened gradually as the low drum of untrained chakra buzzed around her. She did not think this woman could hurt them.

"And what is your intention, traveling through my people's nation?"

"To head south and find warmer land."

The woman held her gaze steadily, playing with the reins of the caribou in one hand. She made a noise of disapproval. "The pass to the south has closed with the snow. It, and any other path remain impassable until the warmer months."

_Typical, _Sakura thought with frustration. Her hands fisted. The wind stirred the snow around them. At her side, Sasuke began coughing loudly. Sakura turned her back on the woman, falling to her knees and struggling to get him upright. His eyes cracked open and he leaned forward onto his palms, spitting up phlegm into the snow. She held his shoulders as he shook, rubbing his back with her free hand. He pulled away from her slightly, falling back to the pallet.

"Bring him onto the sleigh." Sakura looked up at the woman. Her eyes had softened. "My people will help him."

Sakura closed her eyes in relief. _Thank you, Naruto_. The wind stirred around her, tugging at her hair as she sighed.

* * *

_Sakura dragged him through the gates of the Uchiha compound. The wooden frame had been freshly varnished and the clan's koto was prominently painted. He tilted his head up, catching sight of the bronze bell hanging from the frame. _

"_We're so late!" Sakura told him with a glance over her shoulder. He scowled, grunting an answer. She walked quickly ahead of him, pulling his weight by her grip on his wrist. The narrow streets within the compound were filled with distant relatives. Most acknowledged him in some way, with the bow of a head or a polite greeting. _

"_Come on!" Sakura jumped onto the engawa of the main house, slipping off her sandals in a frenzy. He toed his own off behind her-slowly. With a huff, she pulled him through the open shoji. His family was kneeling at the table, dishes spread before them. Mikoto bustled to and from the kitchen, adding more things to the table. _

"_Ohayou gozaimasu," Sakura said with a broad smile, bowing briefly. Mikoto, a bowl of rice in hand, set it down quickly. "Sakura-chan! Sasuke-kun!" She wrapped an arm over Sakura's shoulders. "Come, come, we've been waiting for you." She pulled Sasuke into a hug, and he stiffened, blushing as she dropped a kiss on his cheek. _

"_Okasan!" he hissed under his breath, falling onto his usual seat beside Sakura. His mother hid her smile behind slim fingers, patting his head as she rounded the table and sat by his father. Fugaku lowered his newspaper, nodding briefly to them. _

"_Where is Naruto-kun?" Mikoto asked, pausing as she reached for the rice. "Should we wait for him?" _

_Sakura shook her hand. "He got called into a meeting with Tsunade-san." _

"_That's a shame," Mikoto said, uncovering the beautiful bowl she had before her. Steam rose from the miso soup. _

"_Itadakimasu," Fugaku's voice was deep and quiet. With slow, controlled movements, he brought a spoonful of miso soup to his lips. As if given permission, the others followed suit. _

_Beside him, Sakura spoke, "It's delicious, Mikoto-san, as always." _

_His mother smiled, meekly looking away. "You flatter me, Sakura-chan."_

"_And so much, too!" Sakura's gaze swept over the steamed rice, the soup, the grilled fish, the nori, the pickled vegetables, and the fresh fruit. Her elbow jammed Sasuke's side. He grunted, shooting her a look. "Why don't you invite me over, more often, eh? All I ever have for breakfast are protein bars." _

_His mother 'tsked.' "Protein bars, Sakura-chan! That's no breakfast at all for a growing kunoichi!"_

"_Oh, I'm no worse than Sasuke-kun." She glanced at him slyly, a wicked edge curling the corners of her lips. "He rarely eats anything at all." _

_Sasuke gripped his bowl, face souring. His mother's angry rebuttal forced a sigh from his lips._

"_Sasuke! Fugaku-" She turned to her husband. "-tell your son he should take better care of himself."_

_Fugaku's gaze remained passively on his meal, taking a calm sip of green tea. The steam from his cup scattered with his quiet breath, "Listen to your mother." Before more could be said, Itachi slipped though the shoji. _

"_Ohayou," he greeted, dropping a kiss onto his mother's head. _

"_Itachi-kun, you're late," Mikoto chided, making to stand. _

"_I'll get it," he told her, pushing gently on her shoulders before disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with a tray loaded with his breakfast. He bumped Sasuke's back with his knee as he passed. "Otouto." _

"_Idiot," Sasuke muttered, picking at his fish with graceful, nonplussed elegance. _

_Sakura covered her laugh with a mouthful of rice._

"_Sakura-chan." _

"_Itachi-san," she answered with a smile._

_Removing the lid from his bowl, Itachi looked at her dashingly, "Lovelier everyday."_

_Sasuke glanced between her blushing face and his brother's snide look. Scowling, he slapped his palm against the back of Itachi's head. _

"_Boys," Mikoto said, just after Fugaku's intense stare swept over them._

"_Works every time," Itachi hummed, picking a slice of radish. "I don't know why you agreed to marry him. You should have married me." _

_Sasuke choked on his tea. He felt Sakura's hand pat gently on his back, then felt her fingers drift lazily to his collarbone as she leaned in close. "Insecure?" she teased, whispering the word into his ear. He turned, staring at her, ready to tell her just why he wasn't insecure, when Naruto's loud voice interrupted. _

"_Wrong. She should marry me." He draped his arms over Sakura's shoulders, fluttering his lashes. "Right, Sakura-chan?" A flat line straightened her smile and her elbow crashed into his gut. _

_Naruto's blue eyes snapped to a close as he groaned, dropping into the empty space dramatically. "That hurt, Sakura-chan." _

"_It was supposed to."_

_Setting his breakfast before him, Mikoto placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "I'm glad you could join us, Naruto-kun."_

_Naruto grinned at the bowl of ramen made especially for him. "Thanks, Uchiha-san." Turning to Sasuke, he added, "You think she'd adopt me?" _

"_You're overage," he replied, "fortunately." _

"_Bastard," Naruto whispered sourly, careful he wasn't overheard. _

_When Sakura and Sasuke were doing the dishes, Itachi stepped into the kitchen. He leaned against the countertops, standing quietly. _

"_It's more entertaining when you help," Sasuke said, not bothering to turn._

_Eyebrows rising, Itachi crossed his arms casually. "I much prefer passive observation to active engagement. Sakura," he added, "Naruto's boasting about his sexual exploits with you-"_

_The plate slipped from Sasuke's hands, clattering undamaged into the sink, as Sakura shrieked, "He's what!"_

_Itachi watched her leave, then gripped Sasuke's shoulder, "I forgive you."_

_Sasuke paused, looking away from the suds on his skin. "What?" he asked, tilting his face towards his brother, brow furrowed. _

"_I forgive you, if you forgive me."_

_Snatching the dishtowel Sakura had abandoned, Sasuke dried his hands. "What are you talking about?" _

_His mother entered the room. "He's talking about what happened, Sasuke-kun." The noise around them, the television, the bellowing between Naruto and Sakura, disappeared. Sasuke remained quiet, eyes shooting between his mother and brother as nervousness stirred within him. _

_His mother neared him, raising her hand to cup his jaw. "Sasuke-kun," her soft voice, usually so light, was burdened with gentle severity, "we can't come back to you the way you want us to."_

_Sasuke held her hand to his face, fear threading through the beats of his heart. "What are you talking about, Okasan?"_

"_But we're always with you, Sasuke. And there are still so many wonderful people to love you, and be loved by you, and so many more to come." She turned him to face the window. Outside, Sakura sat on a stone bench, Kakashi beside her. "You lost your family, Sasuke, but all children do at some point. That is why they build their own families, to love and protect and lend strength to and receive strength from." _

_His mother stepped into his line of sight. Itachi had disappeared from the kitchen. "It's enough, Sasuke. For my sake, for your brother's and your father's sake, stop this. Honor us with your happiness. Bring us that peace and let us rest, Sasuke, let us go." Both her hands held his face, and as Sasuke searched her black eyes, a shiver crawled along his spine, a dawning sense of something terrible. He buried his head in her neck, wrapping his arms around her back and crushing her tightly to him. _

"_I love you, Sasuke-kun. Always." _

His eyes peeled open slowly; the world coming into focus as the last tendrils of his dream fled. He stared at a low ceiling, held by the crude beams of untreated wood. Sasuke blinked, breathing deeply to slow his racing heart. Weakly, he turned on his side, setting his palms against the furs beneath him as his arms shook with his weight. Sitting upright, thick bedding falling to his waist, he leaned his head into his hands, snagging his fingers on his tangled, dirty hair. He closed his eyes and savored the memory of the dream, revisiting each image carefully, fearful that like most dreams, he would forget. The strange normalcy of it, of sitting down with his family to have breakfast, of bringing Sakura and Naruto to his home, filled with family, with his relatives, his brother, was enough to make his fingers dig harshly into his scalp. He pictured his father reading the newspaper, his mother chatting amiably with Sakura, his brother teasing him, the easy peace of his home and in his soul. _"Bring us that peace."_

Standing quickly, Sasuke took in the room he was in. There were no windows, the floor was hard, cold earth, spread with furs for warmth, the walls were logs stacked and cemented with mud, and a sunken hearth simmered in a corner. Small containers, carefully carved from animal bone were lined neatly at his bedside. Incense had been burned in them. His clothes had been changed, they were warmer and his breaths came easier, though he still felt phlegm coating his throat.

The untrained chakra signatures outside eased him marginally. From the only doorway hung the long hide of an animal. It had been cut to fit the frame and sweep the floor. Gripping it, he swept it aside. Bitterly cold air smacked into him. Gritting his teeth, Sasuke stooped under the low lintel, ducking outside. People, dressed in long, heavy furs with intricate patterns, moved from place to place. A group of women sat weaving baskets, children played a game with painted stones, men were skinning the carcasses of large animals, and others sat smoking from pipes or sipping steaming drinks while they chatted. The clearing of tiny log homes was surrounded by a forest of towering evergreens, and he could smell the salt of the ocean on the breeze. A child approached him. "Come," she said, waving her hand. He followed at a distance behind her, catching the poignant stares he received, the snippets of foreign conversation. Sitting over a blanket on the ground, he saw Sakura's unmistakable pink hair. Her back was to him and she was speaking to a woman dressed in the same suede parka as she. The girl ran the last steps through the snow, drawing the women's attention. Sakura's green eyes snapped to him and her smile grew. "Ken!" She said, scrambling to her feet. Her hands, hidden under bulky gloves, gripped his. "You're awake!"

Flicking his gaze to the woman behind her, he replied absently. "Obviously." The girl was hanging onto the woman's arm, who had stood and shocked him with her height.

Sakura's voice nabbed his attention. "You idiot!" she said, waving at him. She removed her parka, struggling as it snagged her hair, then pushed it to him, "You're not wearing a coat! You've been really sick and you're not wearing a coat!"

Holding the parka loosely against his stomach, Sasuke stared blankly at her. "Where are we?"

Grabbing his forearm, she dragged him closer to the tall woman. "This is Nanaki and Ninik." She swept a hand in their direction. "Nanaki-san, Ninik-chan, this is Ken."

The woman smiled pleasantly. "A pleasure to see you well again, Ken-san."

Sasuke remained quiet.

"Excuse him, he's chronically rude."

Nanaki shrugged elegantly, taking her daughter's hand. "Few men aren't." Stooping to whisper in her daughter's ear, she wove a hand over the fur. "Sit, please." Ninik walked into the lodging whose 'porch' they shared. Sakura tugged him down with her as she settled onto her knees.

"To answer your question," Nanaki spoke, filling a cup and passing it to him, "we are on the borders of Snow Country. This land belongs to my people, the Kokie."

Sasuke stared down at his drink, the blend was cloudy and thick, with a bitter smell. He enjoyed, at least, the warmth it offered his hands. Ninik returned, her shoulders burdened by a heavy coat larger than her. As she held it out to him, Sakura retrieved her parka.

Taking the coat from Ninik, he shrugged into it. "Thank you," his voice was low and clipped.

"Nanaki tells me," Sakura spoke beside him, "that leaving snow country in this weather is impossible."

"And when," Sasuke stared calmly between Sakura and Nanaki, "will it be possible?"

He noticed the way Sakura shifted her drink in her hands, rolling the cup between her gloved palms. "At the earliest? Late spring."


End file.
